Possession
by Engage Fiction
Summary: For Juliana Harris, life had always been cut and dry: People were Loyalists or Rebels, they were good or bad, they were master or slave. That perception of life changes suddenly one night ...
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

Well, this is my very first Patriot fic. I've been reading them for a couple of months now, so I decided to give it a try even though it isn't my usual fare. First, I wanna say that even though I minored in history, I am in no way a scholar of this period in history, so if any historical inaccuracies surface, chalk it up to the author's ignorance. But I'm not writing a documentary here, after all, so deviation from history, I would think, is acceptable. Second, is the DISCLAIMER. I don't own The Patriot, nor do I make a claim to it or any part of it. This piece and all its subsequent chapters are written for the pure enjoyment of myself and any others who happen to read them. I don't own any of the characters previously introduced in the film, however the original characters that appear solely in this work and not in the film do belong to me. I'm not making any money from this, however if you wish to use this on your site or for any other purposes besides those of a monetarily profitable nature, I ask that you please keep my name and this disclaimer attached to it. And now, on with the show …

The sound of glass shattering somewhere in the house roused him and his wife from their restful sleep. More glass breaking and the sound of a door being broken down was enough to let them know that they had good reason to be alarmed. The sound of rapid footfalls pounding through the darkened abode sent a clear message that the couple was doomed.

Their bedroom door flew open and two figures entered, swords drawn. The master of the house, still on his bed, had no time to reach for his own sword, stowed away against the wall behind him. Even if he had reached it, taking on two members of the British Army was suicide. He might have had a chance against one, but not two. Sometime after realizing the futility of his situation, both he and his wife became aware of a steady set of footfalls making their way up the stairs amid the backdrop of chaos occurring on the lower level of the house. The footsteps continued, up the hall, closer and closer, finally coming to a stop right outside the master bedroom. The Mr. and Mrs. Of the household watched the doorway with intent and anticipation. And then he appeared, stepping out of the darkness into the moonlit bedroom.

Colonel William Tavington studied his latest prisoners. The sight of them huddled together on the bed made him sick. He hated these colonials. Always going on about their precious rights and freedoms. Rubbish. They were all a bunch of traitors, biting the very hand that feeds them. And they would receive what they duly deserved.

"Mr. and Mrs. George Harris," Tavington began, taking on an official attitude. "You have been lawfully charged and convicted of treason for conspiring against Britain and the Royal Crown. Your sentence – execution by firing squad. Your possessions and property will subsequently become the property of the Britain and the British Army. Do you have any last words?"

Harris pulled himself up tall in his spot on the bed. A look of unshakable pride appeared on his face, and he said nothing.

"Very well then," Tavington said. He stepped out into the hallway, back into the shadows. Two soldiers entered the bedroom, joining the other two and taking up positions inside so that collectively they formed a semi-circle which effectively enclosed the bed where the couple lay.

"Ready!" the order was announced. Then, "Take aim!" The four soldiers raised their rifles and aimed their barrels squarely at Harris and his wife. There was no escape for them, and they knew it.

"Liberty or death!" Harris exclaimed in what he knew was his final moment.

"Fire!" All four soldiers fired.

Death it was, Tavington thought sardonically, walking away from the door. He descended the stairs of the British Army's newest piece of acquired property. Despite his distaste for its former occupants, the house had its merits. He reached the foot of the stairs, admiring the woodwork on the stair banister before he started for the door. He absently appraised the house's contents on the way out, making mental notes of the items he passed, quickly assessing their value. The house would be torched of course, but that didn't mean the valuables inside were destined to perish, as well. Once he was outside, Tavington was made aware of some additional 'valuables' that had belonged to that cad Harris. Two of Tavington's men approached him on the way back to his horse.

"Sir, we found five slaves," one of the officers reported. "What are your orders concerning them?"

"Tie them to the horses," Tavington instructed. "We'll take them back to camp along with the rest of the confiscated property."

"Yes, sir." The officer hurried off to comply with the colonel's orders.

Juliana Harris kept her dark eyes focused on the ground as her hands were forcefully and tightly bound with rope and tied to the horse in front of her. She had no idea what was going to happen to her or any of the other slaves. She didn't know if they were going to be dragged along at high speeds, if they were going to be killed, or they were just being tied up so that they wouldn't run away. She wanted to look around, to see what was going on, but she didn't dare look up from the ground and draw attention to herself. Right now, her one goal was to just stay alive. She would worry about the rest later.

"Has everything been secured?" Juliana heard a man ask.

"Yes, sir," another man replied. "Valuables have been secured."

Footsteps. And they were coming closer to where the horses were. Juliana heard them slow to the pace of a leisurely stroll. She could hardly breathe at this point, she was so nervous. She nearly stopped breathing altogether when a pair of boot-clad feet came into her line of vision on the ground.

"Well, well … what have we here?"

Juliana kept her ebony eyes focused on the ground, using all her will to do so despite her burning curiosity to see the face of the man standing before her. Even when he reached out and gently lifted her chin so that her head was no longer bowed, her gaze remained steady on the ground. Finally, she couldn't no longer resist, and she raised her eyes. They timidly connected with a crisp blue gaze.

"My, she is quite the beauty, isn't she?" he commented appraisingly. "Much too delicate to be traipsing along behind a horse." He turned to the officer beside him. "Cut her loose; she'll ride with me."

"Yes, sir," the officer obliged. He pulled out a small knife and promptly cut Juliana loose from the horse. Then he cut the rope away from her wrists, which she rubbed, feeling where the tight restraints had dug into her skin.

"Come with me, my dear," Tavington instructed the slave.

Juliana didn't like the term of endearment with which Tavington had addressed her. She didn't understand how the two words 'my dear,' which ordinarily had such a positive connotation when spoken, could leave her feeling so ill at ease. She gave a final look of uncertainty to the man who'd cut her free. She didn't want to go with … she didn't even know his name. All she knew about him was that he had penetrating blue eyes and that he had saved her from a walking trip behind a horse. For all she knew, he could be one of the kindest men she'd ever met. She turned and watched walk away toward his animal. On the other hand, he could be one of the most vile men who ever walked the earth.

Tavington turned back to the girl. "Are you coming?" he asked. "Or did you _want_ to be tied to the horse?"

Juliana walked over to where Tavington stood, her head once again bowed to the ground. She intended to keep it that way, but she couldn't help but look up and openly admire the beautiful brown steed that she now stood beside.

"Have you ever ridden a horse before?" Tavington asked her. Juliana shook her head, indicating that she had not. She chanced a brief look at him before averting her eyes to the ground again. Tavington effortlessly mounted the massive animal. Then he reached down towards Juliana, offering his hand to the young woman. She timidly placed her hand in his, momentarily marveling at the odd contrast of her brown hand against his much paler skin. With strength that took her by surprise, he pulled her up into the saddle with him. She sat behind him, awkwardly at first, as she had no idea what she was supposed to hold on to. She found a spot on the back of the saddle that seemed alright enough for the moment but would probably prove to be a different story once they actually started moving.

"Tell me, do you know who I am?" Tavington asked.

"No, sir," Juliana replied simply.

"I am Colonel William Tavington," he said. "What is your name?"

"Juliana Harris."

Tavington snorted. "I see you've adopted that habit of taking on your master's last name. Very well, Juliana _Harris_. You said you don't know how to ride a horse?"

"No, sir."

"Put your arms around my waist," Tavington instructed. "And hold on."

"I feel like I'm going to fall off," Juliana said, her arms already around Tavington.

"You have to use your legs to hold you in place," Tavington said. "Squeeze the sides of the horse with your knees." Juliana did so and immediately felt more stable in her seat. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir. I believe so."

Tavington gently spurred the horse with his boot heel, and the animal trotted into motion. Juliana's grip around Tavington's waist instinctively tightened, and her body pressed tightly against Tavington's. Tavington's hand covered Juliana's, a motion that shocked her so that she nearly fell off the horse right then and there.

"Are you alright?" Tavington asked.

"I'm alright."

"We don't have very far to go," Tavington informed her. "Perhaps next time, I'll have you ride in the front so that I will have a better hold on you."

Next time? Juliana merely stared at the back of Tavington's head, not knowing what do think about 'next time'. Tavington turned his head slightly, in her direction, and she averted her eyes as she realized that she and this William Tavington might be spending more time together than she originally thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Tavington dismounted first. To Juliana, he looked to have done it with such ease. Getting off the horse must be easier than getting on, she reasoned. But when it was her turn, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She sat there, looking down at the ground below, and it looked like it was so far.

"Jump," Tavington said from his position on the ground. Juliana hesitated, but Tavington's outstretched arms were a small source of encouragement. She brought both of her legs around to the side of the animal and simply pushed. She slid from the saddle and fell from the horse and into Tavington's waiting arms.

"Thank you, sir," Juliana said, guardedly looking up into Tavington's sneering face. A junior officer was already at the colonel's side, waiting to tend his horse. He dutifully began to lead the horse away. Tavington turned on his heel and began to walk into the house where they'd dismounted. For the first time, Juliana looked at the house where she and Tavington had dismounted. Two people, an older black man and an older black woman, were waiting outside the door of the house. Juliana was simply happy to see someone else who looked like she did. And that was the only thing that compelled her toward the house, following Tavington.

Tavington walked into the house first, while the little welcoming committee remained outside. Juliana didn't take her eyes off them as she walked past, into the house behind Tavington. The two 'greeters' finally entered the house once the colonel and his guest were inside.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" Tavington asked Juliana once they were inside. "Would you like anything?"

Juliana lingered near the door while Tavington ventured farther into the room. She looked to the man and woman for guidance, silent advice, but they offered none. She turned her nervous gaze back to Tavington.

"No, sir," she said, finally.

Tavington, now on the other side of the room, nodded, seemingly gleaming some kind of valuable information from her answer. "Eleanor and Nathan – give us some privacy." He said it without taking his eyes off Juliana. Eleanor and Nathan, whom Juliana, by this point, understood to be servants, disappeared obediently and silently. Juliana watched them go, wishing there were some way they could stay. She didn't know what kind of people they were, but she did know that she didn't want to be alone with this man.

"Why won't you look at me?" Tavington asked curiously. "I don't think you've looked me in the eye more than once or twice in this entire ordeal." He had stood a good distance away from her, but now he took slow steps toward her, beginning to cross the distance that lay between them.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked.

Juliana didn't answer him right away, not sure of what to say. It was a gamble. Did he want to hear that she wasn't afraid, or did he want the truth?

"Are you afraid of me?" Tavington pressed. "Tell me the truth. And look me in the eye when you say it."

Juliana, gathering all that she could, steadied her gaze as she leveled it with Tavington's blue-eyed stare. "Are you afraid?" Tavington repeated.

This time, Juliana answered. "Yes, sir – I am."

Tavington stopped his advance toward her and turned, altering his course and heading for the windows. "So, there we have it," he said. "You _are_ afraid of me." He turned suddenly to her. "Why?"

"Because I don't know why you're doing this," Juliana said, mustering up some courage from somewhere. "I don't know why I'm here, what's going to happen to me. And I don't know you."

"I will tell you why you're here," Tavington said. "You're here because your master was a traitor. You're here because the Royal Army captured your master. You're here because the Royal Army has the right to seize the property of captured traitors. That includes slaves. You're here because I thought you might be more suited for house work rather than the military work the others will be assigned. I think you'll … enjoy it here."

Juliana didn't answer but only looked at Tavington, gloom settling inside her. She didn't agree with his prediction.

Notes: Okay, I know this one is short, and after the long break between this chapter and my last, I know I should logically have more than this. School work and life in general has been getting in the way lately. Hopefully, things will free up a little for the next few weeks so I can get a little further. And I know this is a weak chapter. Honestly, I don't know if it'll get better at this point. School has been monopolizing my imagination. I have hope, though …


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Juliana awoke, the first thing that surprised her was the time. She was used to waking up before the sun rose, and one look out the window told her that the sun had long since risen. Her immediate thought was that she'd overslept and was late to for her duties as a house servant. She had no idea what the time was, but she was sure that Tavington had already had his breakfast, and the fact that Juliana hadn't been there to prepare it for him probably wasn't to good for her.

Juliana darted out of bed and pulled on the simple dress she'd worn the day before. She quickly raked her fingers through her hair and flew out the door. When she reached the entrance to the dining room, she looked inside, and sure enough, Tavington was at the table, casually sipping coffee while he perused the newspaper. Juliana stepped into the room and steeled herself for the less than pleased reaction that she knew was coming.

Tavington looked up from his paper. "Juliana – so very glad you decided to join me for breakfast," he began. "I've been up for quite some time now, but I decided to wait for you."

"I'm sorry, Colonel," Juliana said, beginning her hurried apology. "I don't know what happened. I must have overslept. It doesn't usually happen with me. It won't happen again, I can assure you."

Tavington regarded her curiously. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Punctuality is a decent trait to possess." He folded his paper and placed it aside. "Now that you're here, I should like to have my breakfast."

Juliana nodded. "Right away, Colonel." She turned, intending to go to the kitchen, but before she even took one step, Tavington called out for Eleanor. Juliana turned back around to Tavington, momentarily confused. Eleanor promptly entered, carrying plates of food. Still confused, Juliana watched Eleanor place the plates on the table, one in front of Tavington, the other directly across from him on the table. Eleanor left the dining room, and Juliana looked to Tavington for an explanation.

He spread his napkin out on his lap, preparing to enjoy his meal. Then he looked up and saw that Juliana still stood. "Don't you want any breakfast?"

"Yes, Colonel," Juliana replied.

"Then, by all means, sit, eat," Tavington urged.

Juliana didn't know what was going on, but it wasn't anything she'd expected to happen. She quickly took the seat across the table from Tavington before he changed his mind. She placed her napkin on her lap and picked up her fork, then hesitated. She'd never eaten at the same table as a white person before and had never thought that she would ever be in a situation where that would be the case. She didn't know what to do. Should she wait on him to begin first? Should she keep her eyes on her plate? Should she remain silent?

"You must tell me what you think of Eleanor's cooking," Tavington commented. "She's scores better than any cook I ever had back in England. Go ahead –- try it."

Juliana looked down at her plate, which was covered with toast, bacon, and eggs. She tried the eggs first. "They're good," she said. Personally, she'd tasted better stuff plenty times before, but these weren't half-bad. Tavington sure did seem to like them.

"It's much better than the substandard fare they feed those enlisted men," Tavington said.

Eleanor returned with two fresh cups of coffee, one for Tavington and one for Juliana. She looked at the beverage, blinking, for it was one of those drinks she considered a real luxury. In her whole life, she could only recall having had three cups. And now she was getting it, and she hadn't even asked for it. After Eleanor had deposited the cups of coffee on the table, she was gone again, away to the kitchen.

"How long have they been with you?" Juliana asked, feeling a bit more comfortable in her unexpected situation.

"Six months," Tavington answered. "They worked in one of the first households that we raided. At the time, I didn't have anyone to cook or take care of the house that Cornwallis had provided for me, so finding Eleanor and Nathan was a stroke of luck. They've been with me ever since. They will prove to be most valuable in the coming months. I've acquired a house in Charles Town. It's much larger than this one. I've decided to spend the winter months there until fighting resumes in the spring. Have you ever been to Charles Town?"

"Only a few times," Juliana replied. "Most of the time, Mr. Harris traveled there for business on his own."

"Is that so?" Tavington took a final sip from his cup before placing his napkin on the table and rising. "Well, get used to the prospect of living there," he said. "It will be quite different from what you're accustomed to."

Juliana watched him walk away from the table and leave the room. What was she supposed to do now? After nearly a week with Tavington, Eleanor, and Nathan, she'd just gotten used to life around here. Now, she was going to have to move again? She longed for her former life in the Harris household. She didn't want to always be moving around from place to place. She wanted to be in one place, with people she knew and loved. Even when she finally came to know those now in her life, she doubted that she would ever love them.

In the living room, Tavington sat down at the simple table that was serving as a desk. He knew he had to get away from this whole war business for a little while. He needed a break, perhaps as a reward for all the phenomenal work he'd been doing as of late. It was gruesome, at times, yes. But it was necessary to get the job done. Absolutely necessary.

These damned colonials, he thought spitefully. Why did they have to resist? Couldn't they see they were making it harder on themselves? Why couldn't they realize that? Why couldn't George realize that? George Harris … that poor, traitorous fool. Tavington had once looked up to the man as a model citizen. When Tavington had been a boy, Harris was a good friend of the family. Tavington had still been young when his own father had died. After it'd happened, Harris and his wife had been there for Tavington's mother and the rest of the family to provide support and encouragement.

Then Harris had left England for the colonies. His ideals, his loyalties changed somewhere along the way, as Tavington had found out, and the rest was as it was. How had it come to that? How had it come to Tavington ordering the execution of a man he'd once had so much respect for?

Amid the papers on his table was a small box, which Tavington reached for and opened. He pulled out a folded sheet of paper, a letter he'd received from his mother shortly after he'd begun his tour in the colonies. He looked it over, and his eyes stopped on a line about two thirds of the way down the page.

_Son, please remember to check in on the Harrises if you're ever near their area. They did so much for us during that terrible time after your father's passing … _

Tavington refolded the letter. It would break his mother's heart if she knew that he'd given the order that had sent George and Elaine Harris to their deaths. It would probably kill her if she knew that the part of him that felt satisfaction from punishing traitors had felt no differently that night in the Harris' bedroom.

Tavington placed his mother's letter back inside its box. He had other business to attend to.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The new house was large, and it was beautiful, but for Juliana it wasn't home, and it never would be. Home no longer existed for her. Tavington had seen to that when he'd ordered the Harris home torched.

Juliana wondered over into the parlor. The house was located near the heart of Charles Town, and the parlor's windows looked out at path that followed from the house to the bustling street beyond, one of Charles Town's busiest streets.

Juliana heard the click of Tavington's boots on the floor behind her, but she continued to gaze out of the windows.

"So, Julianna, what do you think of our new home?" he asked, joining her at the windows.

Juliana internally cringed at Tavington's choice of words. "It's very large," she said. "And busy."

"Yes," Tavington concurred. "My Dragoons seized this house when the Crown took Charles Town. Cornwallis gave it to me as a reward."

Juliana resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Tavington was obviously proud of his accomplishments and wasn't above boasting. Juliana despised him all the more it.

"Have you been to your room, yet?" Tavington asked her.

Juliana finally turned to Tavington. "My room?"

"Yes; just upstairs." He turned and left the sitting room; Juliana followed. She followed him up the sweeping, curved staircase and through the open door of one of the rooms located just beyond the top of the staircase. The room was large and sunlit, complete with a large bed, a vanity, and a wardrobe chest.

Juliana turned to Tavington, who'd remained in the doorway while she had walked into the room. "How many others will be here with me?" she asked him. The room was simply too large. That had to mean that someone else would be joining her.

But Tavington surprised her with his answer. "None," he said.

"You mean I have this room all to myself?" Juliana had never before had a whole room to herself. When she'd been back at the Harris place, she'd shared a room with another house worker. And that room had been half the size of this one. She looked again at Tavington, a man she seemed to understand less and less each day. Before she could say anything, he turned and left her alone in her new room, the very first in her life. Most slaves didn't even have a room inside the master's house, and here she was with a room fit for any mistress of the house.

**/\/\/\**

Juliana was bored. She was used to having a job, some task to perform, no matter how menial. But no such performance was required of her now. Eleanor tended to preparing meals, and Nathan was responsible for keeping the house in a respectable condition. Even when Juliana tried to help with those tasks, Eleanor or Nathan would, in so many words, tell her that her services weren't needed, no matter how insignificant the task was. It all made Juliana question her presence here even more. She wasn't here to cook or clean, that much was obvious. And in the few weeks that she had been in Tavington's custody, he hadn't treated her badly. He'd even provided her with a nice room and new clothes. None of it made any sense to Juliana, and she couldn't figure it out. Again, she found herself in the kitchen, as she did most days, sitting on a stool, talking to Eleanor.

Juliana watched the older woman working with something in a mixing bowl. "Eleanor," Juliana began, "you've been with the Colonel for a while now, haven't you?"

Eleanor nodded. "Yes, I s'pose so."

"Then maybe you could help me with somethin.'" Juliana said. She had a soft Southern accent brimming with curiosity.

"Depends on what it is," Eleanor said.

Juliana, absolutely serious, looked at Eleanor, then she asked, "Why am I here?"

Eleanor broke from her mixing for a moment and looked at Juliana. "What you mean by that?"

"I mean what I say. What am I doin' here? He don't have me workin' on nothin'. I got a room all to my self. And I got more dresses than I ever had in my whole life," Juliana said. "Now, I don't know what kind of time you've had, but I ain't never heard of no slave livin' like that."

"Me, either, child," Eleanor said. "Me, either."

"So, the Colonel ain't never done nothin' like this before?" Juliana asked.

"Not so long as I been here."

"What's he gon' do with me, then?"

Eleanor stopped stirring and looked at Juliana. She didn't know why the Colonel had brought the girl here, either.

**/\/\/\**

Juliana sat across from Tavington. She'd grown accustomed to it, as she had with most aspects of her day. In the two weeks that she had been in Charles Town with Tavington, a daily routine of sorts had been established. They ate their meals at the same table, always sitting directly across from each other but never saying anything. Tonight, Juliana was going to break that routine.

The question she'd asked Eleanor the previous week still burned inside her. If she wanted an answer to this mystery, she was going to have to go after it herself. From somewhere inside herself, she muster the courage to open her mouth and speak.

"Colonel?" she said. He didn't say anything, just looked at her. "I need to ask you a question."

"Very well, then – out with it," Tavington said.

Juliana abandoned her fork and her nervous efforts to eat. "Colonel, why am I here?" she asked in nearly a single breath.

Tavington regarded her curiously. "Whatever do you mean, girl?"

"I mean, why am I here?" Juliana repeated. "I don't seem to have a purpose. I don't do no kind of work. And it ain't because I haven't tried, because I have."

"You don't do any work because you are not here to work," Tavington told her.

"Then, Colonel, I still have to ask, what am I doin' here? What is my purpose?"

"Your purpose?" Tavington studied her briefly, then placed his napkin on the table and stood. "Get up."

Juliana did as she was told. She stood and followed Tavington out of the dining room and into the parlor.

"You say you want to know what your purpose is?" Tavington asked, the patronizing tones dripping from his voice. He strolled casually across the room, stopping at rifle that was posted above the fireplace mantle. "Do you know where I got this?" Juliana shook her head. Tavington glanced at her briefly before returning his adoring gaze to the rifle on the wall. "I got this from a colonial, a militia man. I cut him down in one pass. The poor fool never stood a chance."

Tavington drew Juliana's attention to the musket that rested just above the rifle. "This I got from an officer in the Continental Army." He turned to Juliana once again. "I use the term 'officer' rather loosely. What a poor excuse … "

He moved on to a silver candelabra that actually rested on the mantle. "This is from a sweep that rounded up twenty traitorous fools in a late-night raid." He turned his back to the mantle. "I know you must be asking yourself what this has to do with your … purpose, but I find that the connection is quite clear. You see, all these things I've shown you are reminders, souvenirs of conquest, triumph. This very house is a monument to it. And so are you."

He began to walk toward Juliana. "You, my dear, are the latest in the string of valued possessions that I have acquired from my adversaries. You've asked why you don't work, why I've treated you fairly well. Surely, it must make sense to you now. I could have my latest prize possession become damaged or worn in any way, now could I?" Tavington stopped once he was within arms' length of her. It is for that very reason that you must always do exactly as I say, and you shall continue to do so until I believe that you are no longer of any value to me. When that day comes, I will … dispose of you as I see fit. Until that day comes, my dear – You. Are. Mine." He walked past her, back toward the dining room.

Tavington stopped and turned to her again. "It actually requires very little of you. I believe you shall find the experience to be much more accommodating than your previous station." He smiled, more to himself than to her. "I'm actually quite glad that you brought the whole matter to the forefront, Juliana. It gives me the opportunity to convey to you your first task as the newest addition to my collection. This Friday evening, you shall have the pleasure of accompanying me to a party at General Cornwallis's residence. I suspect that it will be an altogether … enlightening experience for you." He smiled again before leaving Juliana alone in the parlor.

Juliana found that she regretted ever having opened her mouth. It was true that she might've found out sometime down the road. But to find out in this manner, to learn that she was nothing more than a mere war trophy was quite unsettling. On its face, it might have appeared to be nothing more than an alternate form of slavery, but Juliana knew better. This was a different creature. Even considering the apparent comfort that this new lifestyle would offer, it was something far, far worse than slavery. She was here only as a showpiece. What a hollow shell of an existence she faced in this new life that she found herself in.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Juliana held on to the bedpost while Eleanor stood behind her and pulled the strings on the corset that encased Juliana's torso. Juliana grunted after a hard yank from Eleanor tightened the corset.

"Why does it have to be so tight?" Juliana asked.

"Now, girl, you know good and well why it has to be tight," Eleanor said. "That's just the way it's made to be worn."

"I know," Juliana conceded. "That doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

"Didn't you ever do this for the mistress of the house back at the Harris place?" Eleanor asked.

"I did, but I didn't know what it felt like," Juliana replied.

"Get ready; I'm gonna give it one last pull," Eleanor warned. Juliana gripped the bedpost and braced in preparation. "Suck it in some more, girl." Juliana sucked in her stomach as much as she could and Eleanor pulled and tied the strings on the corset. "There," Eleanor said with finality.

Juliana stood up straight. Her posture was probably the best that it had ever been in her life because it was the only way that she could breathe at the moment. "I don't know how I'm supposed to make it through the night like this," she said. "I can't hardly breathe."

"You have to breathe into your chest," Eleanor instructed her. "That'll make it a little easier." Juliana did as Eleanor suggested and found that it did actually make it a little easier, but it didn't change the fact that the corset was still unbearably tight. "Don't concern yourself with it, girl. You'll get used to it and forget about it before the night's through."

Both of the women turned their attention to the beautiful, blue dress that was laid out on the bed for Juliana. Eleanor shook her head and smiled. Juliana was actually getting ready to go to a ball and hobnob with all those rich folks. In all her years, she'd never heard of anything like this happening to a slave. She was happy for Juliana. In the weeks she'd spent with Juliana, the younger woman had become almost like a daughter to Eleanor. With all that Juliana had been through in the recent past, losing her entire life as she'd previously known it and being tossed into a completely different setting, something as marvelous as attending a fancy party would be good for the girl.

"You gon' have a time tonight," Eleanor said. Maybe the colonel wasn't completely without a heart, after all. "This is gon' be a night to remember for you, gettin' to be part of high society for the night. What a nice gesture by the colonel."

Juliana cast her gaze downward at the floor. She sat down on the bed, beside the dress. "He ain't doin' this out of kindness, Eleanor," Juliana said.

Eleanor dismissed her assertion. "Oh, hush. This is just proof that there are some kind of redeeming qualities inside that man."

Juliana looked up at Eleanor, still standing near the bedpost. "No." She shook her head. "You remember how we were talkin' about what my purpose here was supposed to be?"

Eleanor nodded. "Yeah?"

"I asked him during dinner one night, asked him why I was here. Do you know what he told me?" Eleanor didn't reply. She only looked at Juliana expectantly. "He told me that my duties consist of nothin' more than servin' as one of his possessions, a souvenir from one of his many military exploits. He's takin' me to this party so he can show me off. He only wants to put me on display. Don't you see? That's all I am to him – some thing. I'm not even a person to him."

"He told you that?" Eleanor asked.

"Every word of it. Do you know what it's like to feel completely useless, to know that your only purpose is to exist for someone else's entertainment?" Juliana asked. "It makes you feel completely … empty."

Eleanor looked out the window, a dark cloud descending over her face.

**/\/\/\/\/**

The image that greeted Juliana in the full-length mirror was one that she barely recognized. The gown she wore was fit for the likes of royalty, and Juliana had never even imagined herself in such attire. And she'd never seen her own hair styled in such an intricate manner, elegantly put up with strands of silky curls framing her alluring face. The azure of her dress was an excellent match for her smooth, caramel skin.

Juliana allowed herself a momentary smile; but as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, as her brief joy was tempered by the fact that she was to be part of the entertainment for the night.

**/\/\/**

She appeared at the top of the stairs. Tavington didn't know she was standing there until Nathan directed his own eyes to that direction. Tavington, whose back had been to the stairwell, turned around and saw Juliana standing at the top of the stairs. He had known her to be better than plain, from the first night he'd seen her; however, now, seeing her outfitted in all the peripherals of a proper lady, she was more than Tavington could have ever predicted. He found himself momentarily stunned, gazing at her for a few silent seconds before recovering.

As Juliana began to descend the stairs and she came nearer to him, Tavington appraised her appearance and offered a simple nod of approval. "Very good," he said. "We'll be off then."

Juliana looked uneasily to Eleanor as the older woman wrapped a shawl around the younger woman's shoulders. Juliana was beyond nervous, a condition that would be understandable for anyone about to attend their very first ball. Eleanor tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it fell flat on Juliana. There was little chance that anything anyone said or did was going to calm her tonight.

"Come along, Juliana," Tavington urged, heading toward the door. Juliana followed. To her surprise, he opened the door and indicated that she should walk through first. She did, stepping out into the biting winter air.

**/\/\/\/\/**

By the time the unlikely couple had arrived, the room was already filled with the cream of South Carolina's Loyalist crop. Powdered wigs and opulent gowns and dress were in abundance. A stringed quartet played lively music from some hidden corner.

All heads turned to Tavington and his dark companion. The chatter didn't completely stop, but there was a momentary, and noticeable, drop in the room's volume level. Tavington lavished in the attention. Juliana, on the other hand, was petrified. She was there with Tavington, but she felt as if she were all alone. How could she feel like there was anyone at her side when the person with her was so cold? She knew that at this moment, she probably looked more beautiful than she had ever looked or would ever look again, but all she wanted was to run and hide her face from all the eyes that were glued to her.

Tavington glided confidently into the room, and Juliana followed, one step behind him. She didn't make steady eye contact with any of the guests out of fear of what she might find there.

Tavington swaggered up to Cornwallis, who stood with O'Hara and a small group of high-ranking officers. Juliana hung back a few feet from the group.

"Colonel Tavington," Cornwallis greeted. As his curious eyes momentarily settled in on Juliana, he got straight to the point with Tavington. "I see that you've decided to bring a guest."

Tavington turned and glanced at Juliana, then turned back to Cornwallis. "Who is she?" Cornwallis asked, turning his gaze back on Tavington.

"Her name is Juliana Harris," Tavington said, a satisfied grin appearing across his face. "I … acquired her after we took the Harris plantation."

"She's your slave?" Cornwallis questioned.

"Yes, my Lord, you could say that. I prefer to think of her as a tribute to our success in the colonies."

"Well, Colonel, I needn't remind you that this war is far from over," Cornwallis chastised. "I would appreciate if you kept your premature celebrations at a minimum or, at the very least, to yourself. We still have a world of work to do, and the last thing I need is for our military endeavors to be sabotaged by your quest for glory. Is that clear?"

Tavington could do nothing, say nothing but, "Yes, sir."

"I do not expect to have this conversation with you again, Colonel," Cornwallis warned before moving away from a deflated Tavington.

O'Hara approached Tavington. "I'll say one thing for you, Tavington – she certainly is quite a tart." He stared at Juliana appraisingly for a long moment, then turned to Tavington with a smug smile before leaving him alone.

**/\/\/**

Juliana was more than well aware of the curious looks afforded to her. She was not used to being noticed; now she was the center of attention, no matter how much she tried not to be. She stood at the outskirts of the ball. She wanted to completely disappear.

"How'd you end up with the Butcher?"

Juliana turned around. An old black man, a servant, stood next to her in front of the kitchen door. He carried an empty silver tray. Apparently, he'd asked the question.

"I'd rather not talk about it," Juliana answered.

The man looked her over, amazed. "I never seen a colored girl dolled up like you before," he said.

"Me either," Juliana said, managing a small laugh. She shook her head. "I don't know why he brought me here. I don't know why he does half the things he does."

"You and everybody else. It just don't make no sense for him to be killin' up all those people like he do."

Juliana's head snapped up in the man's direction. "What do you mean?"

"Girl, don't you know who you came here with?" the man asked. He looked at Juliana, shocked that she didn't seem to know what he was talking about. "That man, they call him the Butcher."

"I thought all of them were called butchers?" Juliana replied, speaking of the Redcoats in general.

"No, huh-uh, no ma'am -- just him. They say he'll kill anyone without a second thought. Done it plenty before; probably do it plenty more before the war's over with. You mean you ain't know?"

Juliana couldn't answer. She looked across the room at Tavington, who was chatting it up with some officers.

**/\/\/**

O'Hara had been eyeing Tavington's 'guest' the entire night. He longed to kiss those full, seemingly perfect lips and to get his hands on that body of hers, and he would before the night was done.

He picked up two glasses of wine and sauntered over to the attractive newcomer. "Ms. Harris?"

Juliana turned away from the old man and found herself face-to-face with a British officer. Because she didn't know how to differentiate between the British officers' uniforms, she couldn't immediately tell what his rank was.

"Yes, sir?" she said, wondering why he was even talking to her.

"General Charles O'Hara," the man introduced himself. "I wanted to come over to introduce myself and welcome you to our little get-together." He offered the extra glass of wine to Juliana.

Juliana hesitated and cast a cautious glance at Tavington. After what the old servant had just told her, she knew now that she couldn't risk upsetting the man. Better yet, it only confirmed that she needed to get away from him, and soon.

Tavington caught Juliana's eye, but only briefly. His eyes flitted to O'Hara before he returned his attention to his little group. Juliana looked at O'Hara again and accepted the drink from him.

"Thank you," she said, allowing herself to relax. She took a sip, grateful that someone was actually showing her even a little kindness.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" O'Hara asked her.

Truthfully, Juliana was having a horrible time. But she didn't want to insult anyone, and she didn't want to lie and say that she was having a good time.

"It's a very nice party," Juliana said. "Everything's so pretty."

"There's often a misconception that we British are incapable of having a good time," O'Hara said. "But I assure you that we do know how to have fun every now and then."

"I see," Juliana said. She looked around at the ballroom. This was probably about the dullest party she'd ever been to. The music was dry, and no one danced. If this was what a 'fun' party looked like, Juliana would hate to see a boring one.

O'Hara took Juliana's glass from her and placed it on a little side table with his own. "Would you mind stepping outside with me?" he asked her. "There's something I'd like to show you." He saw Juliana's dark eyes travel across the room to where Tavington stood. "He won't mind, I assure you."

Juliana looked at O'Hara, convinced that it would be harmless to go outside with him for a few minutes. "All right," she said. O'Hara unexpectedly offered his arm to her, and she timidly accepted. They slipped out of the grand room, crossed a foyer, and stepped outside.

Juliana found herself on a large porch overlooking Charlestown Harbor. For a brief moment, she fancied herself running towards that harbor, jumping in, and swimming away from Tavington and the dismal life he had imposed on her.

"It's quite a sight isn't it?" O'Hara commented.

"I never seen anything like it before," Juliana said. She looked out at the ships, enchanted by the sight of their lights reflected off the inky water.

Together, Juliana and O'Hara descended the porch steps. The entire lawn was completely desolate, and because it was, Juliana didn't feel so relaxed anymore.

O'Hara and Juliana walked along at a meandering pace, still arm-in-arm. "Those," O'Hara said, pointing to the ships once more, "are a specimen of the world's finest and most advanced navy. The British navy is unparalleled by any other naval operation in the world."

They stopped near a stone bench where O'Hara offered Juliana a seat. She sat and continued to look nervously out at the lit ships. "That's quite an impressive accomplishment," Juliana said, as O'Hara sat down beside her. She didn't dare look at him. Even so, she could feel his blue gaze burning into her.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" O'Hara said. He moved closer to Juliana.

"My, my, it's quite cool out here tonight," Juliana commented, clawing for anything that would get her out of this horrible situation which she'd gotten herself into.

"You're a very pretty girl," O'Hara told her. "If you're cold, my dear, I'm sure that I could keep you warm."

Juliana looked at him. Before she had time to regret the decision, O'Hara's lips were pressed firmly against hers.

He broke from her momentarily but wrapped his arms firmly around her waist and pulled her body to his. "I just gave you a compliment," he said. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"Thank you," Juliana managed quietly, petrified.

"I've never had the pleasure of being with a dark girl before. I think we'll both like it if you were my first." He moved in fast and close, covering Juliana's lips with his own again. This time, she immediately resisted the maneuver, pushing him away. O'Hara apparently didn't take the hint and persisted, moving in for another kiss and more. He placed his hands on her body, roughly caressing parts that no one had ever touched before, and she made it clear that she didn't appreciate it.

"No … please stop," Juliana pleaded, pushing against his chest in unsuccessful attempts to free herself of him. "Please – stop."

"Come now, my sweet – you'll like it." O'Hara kissed her again, paying no mind to her fervent protests.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Tavington wandered outside. He needed a reprieve from the stuffiness of the party. He also needed to satisfy his curiosity about where Juliana had gone off to. He'd seen her slip out of the ballroom with O'Hara and had expected them to be gone for only a moment. After nearly ten minutes, Tavington's had finally gotten the best of him, and he found himself at the entrance to the porch.

He stepped out onto the porch at the rear of the house and wasn't surprised to find the lawn nearly desolate – nearly. It was dark, but Tavington could make out two figures on a bench a short distance off from the house. He couldn't actually discern who the two individuals were, but Tavington could distinctly see a red coat and a blue dress. Juliana wore a blue gown this night, he recalled.

Tavington began to move down the steps, away from the porch. The more ground he covered on his way to the couple, the better he could see them, and he realized that the two were involved in some sort of struggle. Soon, he was right up on them. He saw that the Redcoat was O'Hara and that he was attempting to assault Tavington's property.

"General, what do you think you're doing?" Tavington asked. He didn't sound particularly upset, but his face was an open book, and it told a story of fury.

O'Hara, annoyed, turned and looked at Tavington. "Tavington – I'll kindly suggest that you move along to another location. As you can see, I'm quite occupied at the moment." He turned back to Juliana, intending to pick up right where he'd left off.

Tavington realized that he was addressing a superior officer, but at the moment, the fact seemed secondary. "Sir, I'll have to ask that you cease your behavior. This girl is my property."

"From what I can see, and feel, this 'girl' is far from a girl," O'Hara said, his eyes still glued to Juliana. "And technically, she is supposed to be the property of the King's army. Lord Cornwallis was beyond generous by allowing you to keep her as your own. If you 'd like to ensure that she is in fact returned to you, you will leave us."

Juliana looked to Tavington with terrified eyes. She was practically clinging to bench, trying unsuccessfully to get some distance between herself and O'Hara.

Tavington looked from Juliana to O'Hara again. "I'm afraid I can't do that, sir," he said.

O'Hara turned to Tavington, not believing his ears. He stood, finally letting go of Juliana, and walked up to Tavington. "And why is that, Colonel?" O'Hara asked.

"Because I cannot allow you to harm my property," Tavington said. Tavington glared at O'Hara, and O'Hara at Tavington. The two men stared at each other solidly, neither of them shirking away from the other.

Juliana stood slowly. This was her chance. After what had just happened, what had nearly happened, she knew that she couldn't do this anymore. She couldn't live like this. She didn't have the strength. She looked out at the harbor, remembering her earlier notions of just making a run for it. At the moment, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. What other option did she have? She took off running towards the harbor. She didn't care about her chances for success at actually attaining freedom. She didn't care if she drowned. She just knew that she couldn't be stuck in her life as it was now. She would have rather been dead.

"Damn," Tavington cursed. He was after Juliana in seconds. The girl had to know that she wouldn't be able to get away from him so easily. He was much faster than she, especially since he wasn't hindered by a large, cumbersome dress. He quickly overtook her and caught her roughly by the arm.

"What do you think you're doing?" he exploded at her, slightly winded. "Where did you think you were going?" He didn't wait for her to answer. He yanked at her arm, pulling her toward the house. As Tavington passed O'Hara, the two men exchanged ominous looks. Their business was not yet done.

**/\/\/**

"Just how far do you think you would have gotten?" Tavington asked Juliana. They'd returned to his house after a tension-filled ride from Middleton Place. Neither of them had uttered one word during the entire trip.

Now, an agitated Tavington stood over Juliana, who sat on a chair in the parlor. "I provide you with clothing, shelter, food, and I ask nothing, _nothing, _in return except that you do as I say," Tavington continued, fuming. "Is this at all unbearable? Are you so terribly unhappy here that you would rather risk drowning in order to get away? Why?"

Juliana felt that she didn't have anything to lose by truthfully speaking her mind at this point. If he killed her, it would come as a blessing. "If you had to live with a homicidal madman, wouldn't you be unhappy?" she questioned him boldly.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Tavington asked, genuinely baffled.

"You're the Butcher," Juliana accused. "You kill at will and at random. You tell me how I can possibly be happy livin' here, under the same roof, with such a person."

Tavington narrowed his eyes at her. "'The Butcher'? Is that what's got you all upset? That's just a story colonials have created to scare little children at night," Tavington insisted. "There's no truth to it."

"Oh, there isn't? That's difficult for me to believe when my very own eyes saw you light fire to my home and burn it to the ground," Juliana retorted.

"Your _home_?" Tavington scoffed. "You were a slave. That wasn't your home – it was your master's home."

"He wasn't simply a master to me," Juliana said. "That was my family. It was the only family I ever knew."

Tavington rolled his eyes, expecting to hear another diatribe about the symbolic family that the American slave system had created. "Yes, yes. I know all about your beloved paternalism," he said, visibly annoyed.

"That isn't what I'm talkin' about," Juliana said. She stood and approached Tavington. "Mr. George Harris was more than my master; he was my grandfather."

Tavington looked at Juliana, stunned by her admission. She continued. "My mother was his daughter. So, yes, while it's all just another casualty of war to you, it's a bit more personal to me."

Tavington peered down at Juliana. Did she believe her story to be unique? The colonies were no doubt filled with slaves who shared similar stories. "I did what was required of me. Your master, your grandfather, was a traitor. Nothing more. Frankly, I find it puzzling that you appear to have such affection for a man who would continue to enslave you and your mother, who were supposed to be his flesh and blood. How could you hold in esteem someone who would refuse to acknowledge his relation to you?"

"He treated us as best he could, under the circumstances," Juliana defended. "He was a good master."

"Oh, yes – because he let you work _inside_ the house as opposed to outside in the field," Tavington mocked. "I do see the source of your feelings now."

"You just don't understand," Juliana said.

"No, I don't. Explain it to me."

Juliana turned away from Tavington and walked over to the window. "It's hard to describe," she said.

"No. I find it quite simple, actually. The truth of it is that your beloved grandfather regarded you as nothing more than mere chattel.

"That isn't true," Juliana insisted

Tavington strode over to the window and stood behind her. He whispered into her ear, "You were nothing more than a house slave to him, and you know it. You also know that your grandfather wasn't worth his weight in salt." He said it because it was true. The reaction that it evoked from Juliana, though, was an added perk.

She turned to him. "You don't understand," she said angrily. "And I'm not obligated to explain it to you. You should just kill me, and get it over with already." She began to walk away, but Tavington stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"I won't kill you, my dear," he told her, "but I promise you that if you ever _think_ about pulling another stunt like the one you attempted tonight, I will make your life a living hell. If you don't believe it, I suggest you test me."

His words came calmly, without any verbal indication of anger. It was in his hard stare and the steel grip he had on her arm that Juliana realized the truth of Tavington's words. He was in complete control, and he would not hesitate to remind her of that fact.

Tavington finally let go of Juliana's arm, and she left him alone in the parlor. As he watched her go, Tavington could not stop the smile that was forming on his lips. What a fortunate turn of events for him. Juliana was the result of Harris's dalliance with a slave. Now he could really make the most out of having her in his possession. Her lineage increased her value to him exponentially. Harris had been a prominent figure around South Carolina. Juliana's existence would allow Tavington to effectively trample the memory of Harris by exposing a secret that Harris's family had probably tried to keep under lock and key. Tavington was almost giddy with the prospect of what he could do with this knowledge. It was what Harris deserved. He didn't deserve to leave behind a memory that people celebrated, as a martyr. With Juliana, Tavington would be able to see that Harris's demise continued beyond death.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Tavington and Juliana emerged from the carriage. It had come to a stop in front of a large house. It wasn't a mansion but was obviously the home of a man of wealth. Tavington had told Juliana that the gathering they were attending would be an intimate affair, with no more than about fifty guests in attendance. Then he'd told her the name of their host. It was a name that Juliana knew well. He was a prominent loyalist. He had also been a business associate of her grandfather's. Even though they'd been on opposite sides of the political fence, the two men had still been able to do business, and it was apparent that they'd held great respect for each other. He'd been at the Harris residence regularly, and Juliana was sure that if he saw her, there'd be a good chance that he would recognize her.

It was for these reasons that Juliana hesitated outside the coach before walking toward the house entrance. Tavington regarded her with mild annoyance. He took her by the elbow and gently urged her forward, guiding her toward the main entrance of the large house.

When they walked in, Tavington casually looped Juliana's arm through his. Before they went any further, Juliana felt that there was something she should tell him. "Colonel, there's something you should know about the man who's throwin' this party," she said to him.

"What about him?" Tavington asked casually.

"He knew Mr. Harris," Juliana said. "They did business together."

Tavington smiled. "I'm well aware of his relationship with your grandfather." In fact, it had played right into his plan for how he hoped to use Juliana. His eyes roamed the room, looking over the other guests. After a quick search, he spotted his primary target – Mr. Jonathan Lewis, the gracious host for the night. With Juliana on his arm, Tavington began to make his way toward Lewis.

Lewis stood in the midst of a group of similarly prominent Loyalist colonists. They'd previously been talking animatedly about something, but they became silent when Tavington approached.

"Colonel Tavington," Lewis greeted. He wasn't overly familiar with the younger man and felt that his tactics regarding the rebels were questionable, to say the least, but it was obvious to Lewis that Tavington was a man who produced results. When this messy business with these troublemakers was done, the colonel could possibly come out as a very influential man. It would be a serious oversight on Lewis's part to fail to gain favor with him.

Tavington nodded slightly. "Mr. Lewis," he greeted, cordially.

"Glad to see that you could attend, Colonel," Lewis said.

Tavington smiled. "I wouldn't dream of missing it. You never really know just what might happen at these kinds of affairs, do you?"

Lewis seemed to consider the statement for a moment. "I supposed you could say that's true." Lewis teasingly narrowed his eyes at Tavington. "Are you trying to hint at something, Tavington? Perhaps _suggest _something about me?"

In response, Tavington only smiled knowingly, but neglected to answer Lewis's query. He turned to Juliana, bringing her into the spotlight. "There's someone I'd like you to meet," he said to Lewis. "This is Juliana Harris. I found her on a recent raid."

"Harris … to whom did she belong?" Lewis questioned. He knew that he had seen this girl somewhere before. Could it have been at old George's place?

"He was your good friend, was he not?" Tavington asked, already well aware of the answer. "I would think that you would have no trouble recognizing one of the house slaves of your dear friend."

Lewis studied Juliana for a long moment before he recognized her. "Of course – Juliana. How have you been?"

"Alright, sir," Juliana replied meekly.

"Good. It must have been good fortune for you, running into Colonel Tavington," Lewis said."

Juliana swallowed hard. "Yes, sir." She dared not speak against Tavington, in public or anywhere else.

"Mr. Lewis, I've recently become privy to some fascinating information," Tavington broke in, raising a mischievous brow. "Tell me, does Juliana bear a striking resemblance to anyone you know – or knew?"

Lewis looked at Juliana a second time. When she finally looked him in the eye, he saw something familiar there that he'd never seen, probably because he'd never studied her this closely before.

Tavington continued. "It appears that fair Juliana is of some relation to someone we both knew, someone who, unfortunately, is no longer with us."

Lewis looked at Tavington. He knew instantly what the colonel was about to say, and he knew that it was probably true, but there was no need to say it aloud and embarrass a dead man.

"Colonel, if you're saying what I think you're saying, I'll have you know that George Harris was a respectable man who loved his wife and family dearly," Lewis defended.

"I have no doubt that you feel that this is true," Tavington said, "but the fact remains that the person you see standing before you is a direct descendant of Mr. George Harris. My dear sir – you're looking at his granddaughter.

Lewis looked around at his companions, who all looked astounded. The damage was done.

Tavington, meanwhile, was relentless in his continued mission to sully Harris's memory. "It's quite amazing, isn't it? I think she has his eyes."

/\/\/

Juliana buried her face in her pillow and sobbed freely, devastated. Tavington was truly a sinister man, using her to defile poor Mr. Harris's memory. Could things possibly get any worse?

There was a knock on the door, and Juliana sat up but kept her back to the door. If it was Tavington, she just couldn't bear to look at him right now.

But it wasn't Tavington at the door.

"Juliana? I heard you and the colonel come in."

Juliana turned around and saw that Eleanor had come into the room, which gave Juliana cause for a little relief.

When Eleanor saw Juliana's face and saw that the younger woman had been crying, she just sighed, wondering what Tavington's latest transgression had been.

"Good Lord, child," Eleanor said. She walked around the bed and sat beside Juliana. "What did he do? Did he say somethin' to you?"

"No," Juliana answered.

Eleanor studied Juliana closely. "Did he hit you?"

Juliana shook her head. "No."

"Then, why are you cryin'?"

"You remember how I told you about Mr. Harris?" Juliana began. "About how he was my mother's father?"

"I remember, yes. What about him?"

"I told the colonel about him."

"What on Earth did you go and do a thing like that for?" Eleanor figured that the girl had to have known that information like that would only give Tavington one more way to hurt her and control her.

"It wasn't anything I planned on doin', but it happened, nonetheless." Juliana shook her head. "It was probably one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. Like everything else, he only wants to use what I told him for his advantage. He's usin' me to tarnish the memory of Mr. Harris by paradin' me around town and at parties. He wants to make Mr. Harris out to be some kind of immoral character, when he wasn't like that at all."

"I know, and the colonel knows it, too," Eleanor said.

"I just don't understand why," Juliana said, tearfully.

"Juliana, there's somethin' you got to understand about the colonel," Eleanor began. "He's fightin' a war, and he's gonna do everything he can to give him and his side the upper hand. If that means bein' low down and mean, he'll do it, and he don't care who he hurts while he's doin' it. I ain't excusin' his behavior or tryin' to defend it, but it's just somethin' you gonna have to get used to."

"I understand what you're sayin', Eleanor, but you can't possibly understand what if feels like on my end. He's tryin' to use me like a weapon in this war he's fightin'. I think I'd give my right arm just to feel normal again. I just wanted to run out of that house tonight, Eleanor," Juliana said, as tears began to fall from her eyes again. "I can't do this anymore, Eleanor. Especially not to Mr. Harris. It just makes me feel like I wanna die."

Eleanor offered a comforting shoulder to cry on, which Juliana gladly accepted. The colonel's behavior kept getting nastier and nastier. Juliana was the one that kept suffering because of it, and it Eleanor knew that the younger woman wouldn't last much longer under these conditions. Physically, there wasn't much that was challenging her; but there were plenty of circumstance where the things your mind put you through were far worse than anything the body would ever go up against.

Tavington had been a source of pain for so many people. Juliana was only his most recent victim, but she wouldn't be his last. If something didn't happen to him before this war was over, there would surely be more.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Juliana perched herself on a stool in the kitchen, and watched Eleanor as she traveled back and forth between the counter and the hearth fire, working. Juliana felt drained, having endured the previous night with Tavington at Lewis' house. In addition to the emotional toll the ordeal had taken on Juliana, she and Tavington hadn't returned home until very late in the evening, after midnight. Eleanor had been awake until after Juliana had drifted off to sleep. Now, she was working diligently, as if she'd gotten a full night of rest.

"What's for dinner tonight, Eleanor?" Juliana asked. She picked up a potato and looked it over.

Eleanor didn't look up from her mixing bowl. "Somethin' special," she merely said.

Juliana grinned at Eleanor's mysterious reply. "So, what is it?"

"Roast," Eleanor said.

Juliana believed there was probably more to it than just 'roast'. "That sounds appetizin'," she said.

"It will be, especially for the colonel," Eleanor said. This time she did look up from the bowl at Juliana.

"Is roast his favorite or somethin'?" Juliana asked.

"It's one of 'em," Eleanor said. "And I'm gonna make it extra special for him tonight."

"That sounds like a nice thing to do. You're a better person than I am. If I were cookin' for him, I'd have half a mind to poison him. And here I thought you couldn't stand him. What's gonna be so special about this roast you're cookin' for him tonight?"

"It's gonna be in the gravy," Eleanor said. She reached over and pointed to a small bag that didn't seem to fit in with any of the other cooking ingredients on the table. Juliana, curious, picked up the bag. She nearly dropped it because of what was on the label.

"Rat poison … " Juliana's voice trailed. She looked at Eleanor and kept her voice low when she spoke again. "What in God's name are you doin'? You can't do this."

Eleanor lowered her voice so that it matched Juliana's tone. "Well, I am. That man is pure evil. I woulda thought that you, more than anybody else, would know that. You should be happy. I'll be doin' the world a favor by gettin' rid of him." She looked at Juliana sternly. She didn't say anything, but Juliana understood clearly what she was to do. She was supposed to keep her mouth shut and go along with this.

And why shouldn't she? Juliana had as much to gain from Tavington's death as Eleanor and Nathan, maybe even more. If Eleanor could poison Tavington, and the three of them could possibly get away and distance themselves from the incident, they might have a fighting chance.

Juliana put the bag of fatal seasoning back down on the countertop. "Won't he taste it?" she asked.

"Won't be enough in there for him to taste it," Eleanor replied. "it don't take much to get the job done."

/\/\/

Juliana couldn't force herself to behave normally after discovering Eleanor and Nathan's plot. Juliana had learned that Nathan was indeed a party to the scheme, as he had been the one to acquire the poison in the first place. He'd gotten it from town under the common presumption that it would be used to take care of a rodent problem.

Now, Juliana sat at the dinner table, anxious but guarded, not wanting to let on to Tavington that anything was out of the ordinary. If she could just get through this, she would be out of this God-forsaken house and home free. She watched Eleanor bring out a pitcher and then the appetizers. Eleanor had told Juliana that the poison would be in the gravy on the roast and that everything else would be safe to eat and drink. So, everything depended on whether Tavington ate the roast or not. Juliana hoped the colonel was hungry.

Juliana had little appetite this night but was encouraged to see Tavington finish the appetizer. She hoped he hadn't filled up on that first course. She would find out soon, because Eleanor was bringing out the main course now. She brought out the entrées on individual plates.

Juliana was livid with anticipation as Eleanor placed a plate before either of them and returned to the kitchen. Juliana watched Tavington take a drink of water. In just a matter of moments, she would be free of him, after two months of arduous captivity. The freedom was so close, Juliana could feel it on the tip of her tongue.

She watched Tavington pick up his fork and knife. She watched him slice at the tender slab of meant, which had been roasted to perfection. It was a beautiful roast, one that no one would ever suspect of being deadly. Juliana watched him stab the small, sliced piece of meat with his fork and raise it to his mouth. A few more seconds, and he would eat what was on the fork, and he would probably be dead not long after that, if Eleanor had put enough poison in the sauce. Juliana was only a few desperate minutes from freedom.

But before Tavington could guide the fork to his lips, before the tainted meat could touch his tongue so the poison could take effect and do its job, Juliana was out of her seat.

"Colonel, no!" Juliana exclaimed, already at his side. "Don't eat it; it's poisoned."

Tavington regarded her quizzically, then skeptically. "Poisoned? Juliana, if this is your idea of a joke, it isn't very funny." He'd lowered his fork and the meat, but now raised it again, fully intending to partake of his meal.

"Colonel, don't – please," Juliana practically begged. She reached out and grabbed the fork and his dinner plate away from him.

Tavington stood, outraged. "Juliana, what on earth has gotten into you? I demand that you place my dinner back on the table at once!"

"I can't, Colonel. Eleanor is tryin' to poison you. If you eat this, you'll die."

"What?" Tavington asked, still skeptical. "Of all the bloody nonsense I've ever heard … Eleanor! Get in here!"

Eleanor emerged from the kitchen immediately. "Yes, sir?" she said.

"Juliana has made the most preposterous allegation," Tavington said. "She claims that you have poisoned my food and are trying to kill me."

Eleanor didn't reply. She merely turned to Juliana in surprise. The surprise quickly turned into a glare.

"It isn't an accusation, Colonel," Juliana proclaimed. "It's the truth."

"This is ridiculous," Tavington said. He turned to Juliana, treating her to a glare of his own. "If you don't quit behaving so poorly, you're going to regret it."

Juliana took his warning seriously, but wasn't deterred from her mission of proving the truth. She turned to Eleanor, the fork and plate still in hand. "If this roast is perfectly safe, why don't you take a bite?" she dared Eleanor. She moved the thrust the meat toward Eleanor, who instinctively shrunk back, knowing what was in the gravy.

"What's the matter, Eleanor?" Juliana asked. "You don't like roast all of a sudden?"

Tavington watched the interaction with growing interest, and realized that Juliana had been right about Eleanor. He also realized how close he'd come to meeting death.

He looked at Eleanor, unnerved. He didn't want to believe that she would try to do something like this, but the evidence was right there in front of him.

"You should know that Nathan was part of this, too," Juliana revealed. She didn't even know what she was doing, why she was revealing all this to Tavington. Wasn't he supposed to be the common enemy, here? Why was she saving his life and dooming herself to a useless existence in the process. She felt rotten inside because she knew that Eleanor's fate was going to be nothing good. But there was also something inside of her that made her feel as if she would have felt even worse if she'd let Tavington consume that meat. She hated Tavington as much as the next person, but poisoning his food, not giving him a fair chance to defend himself was sneaky and underhanded. It was a tactic Tavington would adopt, and Juliana knew that she was above that kind of trickery. Apparently, Eleanor hadn't been. And now she would probably pay for it with her life.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

He sat across from her, watching, pondering why in the devil he was still alive. He should be dead, having suffered a horrible death. Why had she spared him? It would have been so easy for her to have let him eat the meal. He could imagine that she would have been happy to be rid of him. But no. And Tavington could only wonder why.

The carriage came to an easy stop outside a large house. A few people were milling about near the entrance waiting to go in. The coach door opened. Tavington stepped out and turned to help Juliana out.

/\/\/

This was the last big party scheduled for the season, and Tavington couldn't say he was disappointed. The whole process was getting old by this point, though having Juliana along for the ride this go around had made the whole ordeal … interesting.

He watched her now, standing at his side as usual, and he noticed, for the first time that night, her melancholy demeanor. She usually appeared at least mildly interested, but tonight was different. There was a definite sadness about her tonight, and he knew why. Not two weeks ago, she'd had to turn on a trusted friend, and now she was most likely still reeling from the effects of that decision.

Tavington deposited his glass on a table and turned to Juliana once again. "I don't think I've ever danced with you before, Juliana."

The statement obviously caught Juliana off-guard. She didn't seem to know what he'd said at first, and once she'd realized what he'd said, she didn't think she'd heard him correctly. "Sir?" she asked quizzically.

"I said we've never danced before, have we?" Tavington repeated.

"No, Colonel," Juliana replied. "We haven't."

"Why don't we change that?" Tavington suggested. To Juliana's great shock, Tavington took her by the arm and began to lead her to an open area of the room, near the stringed quartet that was providing the music for the evening.

"Colonel, I've never done this kind of dancin' before," Juliana said, hesitantly. Tavington didn't say anything, but Juliana looked up at him, and she saw a look in his eyes that she'd never seen before. It was a softer look, a kinder, gentler expression that she'd never seen on his face before. And it put her at ease. And it scared her because she'd never seen it before. She'd spent her weeks growing accustomed to his ways, his looks, his manners, his moods … and now with one look, he'd thrown her into turmoil because she didn't know what was coming next.

/\/\/

They returned home late. Juliana still wasn't used to the feeling of coming home to a completely empty house. Part of her still expected Eleanor to meet her at the door or at the base of the stairs. But of course Juliana knew that scenario would never be again.

She had begun walking up the stairs when Tavington called out to her.

"Juliana?" She turned to him, still intrigued by his unexpected actions earlier in the evening.

Tavington approached her. "Did you enjoy the evening?"

Juliana hesitated before answering. She didn't want to say that she had because she had an inkling that Tavington would say something cruel in response. But she found herself unable to truthfully say that her night had been unpleasant. It hadn't. In fact, this night had been the most enjoyable to her out of all the other nights she'd accompanied Tavington.

"Did you?" Tavington pressed gently.

Juliana studied him. He seemed like he was genuinely interested in her answer, so she descended the few steps between them. "I did," she said, finally answering his query.

Tavington nodded. "Good," he said. "Good."

Juliana gave him a final, parting look before turning to ascend the stairs once again. She had cleared two or three steps when he called out to her again. She turned to him, and this time, he took the steps to diminish the gap between them.

"There's been something that's been on my mind for … a while now. A few weeks, really." Tavington began. "It's something that I've been meaning to talk to you about."

Juliana watched him expressly. This had been a strange night for her, and it was only getting stranger by the minute, it seemed.

Tavington began to speak again, but stopped to consider his words. "Why didn't you let me eat the meal Eleanor prepared for me? Why did you stop me?"

Juliana had been asking herself the same thing since the night that it had all happened. That had been nearly two weeks ago, and she still didn't have an answer. "Do you want the truth, sir?" she asked him.

"I want nothing else," Tavington said.

"The truth is that I don't know," Juliana said. "It just seemed like the right thing to do, I s'pose. It didn't seem right for her to do that to you. It isn't right to do it to anybody."

"Even if it's absolutely necessary?"

"No, Colonel. Never." Those being her final words of the night, Juliana turned and walked up the stairs, leaving Tavington behind to dwell on her words. This girl that he'd acquired, Juliana – there was something about her that he couldn't figure out, something that he _wanted_ to figure out, something that he _would_ figure out.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"You will go to Savannah and confer with Colonel Hawking on how to resolve the problem they're having with the militia groups," Lord General Cornwallis instructed. Tavington stood before him, listening to his latest orders.

"Very well, sir," Tavington said. "How many men shall I take with me?"

"None," Cornwallis emphasized, "I don't want to alert the rebels to our movements. I want this to be discreet. We need to make it look like a casual trip, for leisure. Take a carriage. I'll send you a driver, but that's it. You should probably take a servant with you to keep up appearances."

"Yes, my lord, I understand," Tavington said.

"I'm sure you already have someone in mind," Cornwallis said. Tavington remained silent, but Cornwallis continued. "Your girl – what's her name?"

"Juliana, sir," Tavington replied.

"Yes. She'll do."

"Of course, sir."

Tavington stood, waiting, wondering why Cornwallis hadn't dismissed him yet.

"You and … Juliana seemed close last week at the last party." Cornwallis had observed Tavington's interaction with the slave girl. His curiosity had piqued that night because he'd been so different with her then than he had been on earlier occasions, better than he'd ever seen him act with her. "I don't believe I'd ever seen the two of you share a dance before."

"Yes, well, it was the last big event of the social season, sir," Tavington said, beginning to formulate his excuse. "I felt that she was entitled to at least a little entertainment for once."

"How kind of you. I feel I should remind you, however, of the need to conform to standards of behavior becoming of a gentleman."

Tavington's dark brows knitted in confusion. "Sir?"

"I don't have to tell you that while you're in that uniform, Colonel, you represent Britain and more importantly the Crown. We musn't give the appearance of any improprieties. "

"Sir, I don't see how one dance could be mistaken for impropriety," Tavington said.

"It can, Colonel," was Cornwallis's reply. "And I would very much appreciate it if that one mistaken impropriety is the only one that I hear of. Do I make myself clear, Colonel?"

"Yes, my lord," came the reply from a bewildered Tavington.

"Well -- now that that's all taken care of, have a good trip."

/\/\/

The coach came to a stop after about two hours of rigorous travel. Juliana peered out the window, but she couldn't determine a reason for the stop. They weren't near any towns, as far as she could tell.

"Don't worry, we're just stopping for a little rest," Tavington said, allaying her concerns. The coach door opened, and he and Juliana emerged.

Juliana looked around and found that there wasn't much to look at. There was plenty of forest greenery to see, and they had come to a halt alongside a flowing stream that wound and bent on its course alongside the land.

"How long are we gonna to be here?" Juliana asked.

"Probably about an hour or so. Long enough for a meal, I'm sure. We'll stop here and let the horses rest before we move on." He looked up at the sky and realized that they should have left Charles Town earlier. It would be dark soon. "We might even have to stop over here for the night if the light goes," he added. His eyes turned to Juliana. "I'm going for a little walk. I'd like to think that I could trust you not to run away from me."

"Colonel, we are in the wilderness, and I can't even begin to guess our whereabouts. Where would I run off to?" The time had passed for escape attempts, Juliana concluded. She'd been offered an easy way out with Eleanor's plan, and she'd probably realize that she'd been a fool for not taking it.

Satisfied, Tavington nodded, turned, and was off. Juliana looked at her remaining companion, the British soldier who'd actually been driving the coach. He was their usual driver, the one who typically drove them to social functions they attended.

"I s'pose I'll go for a walk, too," Juliana announced. We've been traveling for so long, I'd like a chance to stretch my legs, if that's all right with you."

"Of course it is," the driver answered. "I heard what you told the colonel, and you're right – you don't really have anywhere to go, now do you?"

Juliana turned and walked along the river, away from the coach. The truth of it all was that she wanted some privacy. It was an unusually warm day for February, with temperatures that felt more like springtime than winter. Juliana wanted to take full advantage of it by taking some time out to enjoy a quick dip in the stream.

When she was confident that she'd put enough distance between herself and the driver, Juliana stopped walking. She'd stopped at a little inlet that was mostly obscured from view of anyone who might happen to pass by. She looked around once more to make sure she was absolutely alone. Then, she began to undress, laying her clothes out on an old tree stump. She crouched down and splashed the cool water up on her face before slipping in.

The water was a shock at first, but Juliana quickly adapted. The gentle current massaged her skin and felt like heaven. She stayed to one side of a large tree root that grown up from the river bed and effectively divided Juliana's little watery haven into two distinct sections. She waded along the length of the oversized root away from the land and into deeper water. When she got to the point where the water came to just beneath her chest when she stood upright, Juliana completely submerged herself to get her head and shoulders wet. When she surfaced, she heard something that she hadn't expected to hear – splashing that wasn't coming from her. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the tree root that she was currently behind. Who – or _what_ – was it?

Whatever was on the other side of that log, Juliana didn't want to find out, and she didn't want it to find out that it wasn't alone. She looked over to the stump where she'd placed her clothes. Maybe if she moved very slowly, the noise of her moving through the water would blend with the newcomer's own splashing and the sound of the soft current. Deciding to chance it, she began to move, slowly, and was about halfway across when something on the bottom of the stream moved past her foot, startling her. It caused Juliana to move suddenly, despite herself, and a loud splash resulted. She froze, praying that she hadn't been discovered. But the splashing from the other side of the log ceased, causing Juliana even greater cause for concern.

"Who's there?" a male voice rang out.

Juliana was absolutely still and silent. Maybe this person would just go away.

Nonetheless, the man continued, "Whoever you are, I would advise that you leave immediately. I have a gun within arm's reach, and I will not hesitate to use it."

Juliana listened. This person on the other side of the fallen trunk sounded very familiar. Though she had an idea of whom it might be judging from the tone of voice, she didn't want to take any chances. She took a deep breath and began to move toward land again. She gained confidence with every passing second that the man on the other side remained silent. It suggested to Juliana that he'd turned his attention back to his own tasks and was no longer concerned with her.

Juliana hadn't waded two feet when Tavington emerged from the water in front of her. They both froze and looked at each other for a few awkward moments, not being able to do anything else.

Tavington had thought he was about to be the victim of an ambush. The last person he'd expected to see on the other side of that log was Juliana. He couldn't say that he was disappointed. Transfixed, he couldn't take his eyes off her. He actually found himself unable to speak at the moment. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

And she was apparently terrified. When Tavington had thought someone was about to attack him, he'd grabbed his dagger before crossing underwater beneath the root. He'd come out of the water with it just now, ready to attack. He lowered the weapon, relaxed, and tried to slow his racing heart.

Juliana visibly calmed. She had never seen Tavington like this before. His hair was loose about his broad, bare shoulders. He was as naked as she, and now she saw the firm, muscular body that had always been hidden from view by the impeccable uniform he always wore. When she realized that he was staring at her as much as she was him, she self-consciously lowered herself into the water, so that everything but her head was obscured. "Colonel," she said, forcing the syllables from her mouth and forcing herself to away from him.

"Juliana," Tavington said. When he realized that he'd been staring he politely turned away. A rosy tint flushed his cheeks. "I had no idea it was you on the other side," he continued. "Why didn't you say anything? Didn't you recognize my voice?"

"I did, but I didn't know if it actually was you," Juliana replied. She looked at Tavington again, and he at her. For a moment, it seemed as if everything around them stopped and as if they were in a world all their own. Then there was something to pull them back into the real world.

"Colonel?" It was the carriage driver calling from the water's edge.

Juliana, still mostly underwater, instinctively moved closer to Tavington to shield herself from the driver's line of sight. Tavington turned and looked at the driver. "What is it?" The tone of his voice made it clear that he was annoyed at the intrusion on a very private moment.

"Sir, should we prepare to make camp for the night?" the driver called. "The light's going quite fast."

"Yes, go ahead," Tavington called in response. He watched the soldier disappear back into the forest and then turned back to Juliana. Again, he found it hard to look away. He had this urge to reach out and touch her, pull her close. It was an intense desire that took him by surprise and scared him half to death, but she spoke before he got the chance to act on it.

"I'm gonna go see if they need any help," Juliana said. She waded past Tavington wanted to be a gentleman and give Juliana at least a little privacy, but his desire won. He turned his head in time to see her emerging from the water, and he caught a glimpse of her nude form. He looked away again when Juliana looked his way. He was thoroughly embarrassed by this whole incident.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note: With this chapter, I start incorporating actual warfare in the form of battles, skirmishes and such. For you Revolutionary War historians reading this, know this as a warning -- I'm taking a few creative liberties. In my story, conflicts might not occur as they actually did in history or in the movie, even. They might happen at the wrong time or have the wrong outcome. I'm just letting you know ahead of time that I'm fully aware of the issue; I just need to rewrite history for the moment so that it will fit in with my story. Also, I'd like to thank all of you for reading the chapters and reviewing. It's very encouraging, and I really appreciate it. I hope you continue to read. And don't be afraid to get critical. I encourage and welcome it!_

Chapter 11

"You must be absolutely relentless in your pursuit of the militia," Tavington counseled. "You cannot afford to show any leniency." He referred to the map on Hawking's desk. "When you meet militia here and here," he began, pointing to spots on the map, "They'll try to retreat to here, but you must cut them off and prevent them from doing so."

Hawking stroked his chin, wrapping his mind around Tavington's words. "Colonel, I understand your convictions, however, these men are militia. They're common men, not soldiers. They're farmers and blacksmiths and woodsmen."

"Those very same farmers, blacksmiths, and woodsmen will kill you just as effectively as any enlisted man," Tavington said. "Your persistence will ensure that the colonials know that you mean business. You can't spare the militia simply because they are militia. You do that, and they will only grow bolder because they don't think you'll take any action against them. Then, you really will have a problem on your hands. Don't give them any room to work with, Colonel. If you do, you will regret it."

/\/\/

Crisp, chilly air on a clear night. The cold didn't bother Juliana much. The temperature wasn't devastating, and Juliana had a shawl draped around her shoulders. Earlier they'd had dinner at Colonel Hawking's residence, which was where they were also staying while they were in Savannah. Instead of retiring for the night, however, Tavington had asked Juliana to accompany him on a short walk.

They walked along the street that ran along the harbor. It was an awkward experience for the both of them, as they still hadn't discussed what had happened back at the river. They walked for nearly ten minutes, then Juliana spoke up. "I wanted to apologize for interrupting you the other day during your bath," Juliana said. "Honestly, I didn't realize you were there until …"

"I should be the one apologizing to you," Tavington said. "I shouldn't have come at you with the knife like that."

The two of them made a right and walked onto a bridge that crossed a small canal leading into the harbor. They stopped in the middle and were silent while they looked out at the water and the ships in the harbor. "Juliana, I'm going to ask you something, and you have to give me your word that you'll reply truthfully," Tavington said. He looked at her.

Juliana looked at Tavington, wondering what this question was supposed to be leading to. She nodded. "I promise," she said. "The truth."

Tavington looked back out at the harbor, phrasing his question in his mind. "When we first met, I asked if you were afraid of me. Do you remember?"

"I do, yes," Juliana replied.

"You know me better now than you did when we first met … are you still afraid of me?"

Juliana was silent while she thought about her response. "I am, but for very different reasons than then."

Tavington looked back down at Juliana and caught her lovely dark gaze. "What reasons do you have to fear me?" he asked. The desire appeared in him again, the very same that confronted him earlier, when he'd discovered Juliana in the stream. This time, though, there was no one to interrupt, no one to interfere.

He gave in and reached out to her. He caressed her face, and she didn't shirk from him or back away. She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation. Juliana hadn't anticipated that it would feel so good for him to touch her. She touched his hand on her face. She opened her eyes and looked up, finding his blue eyes on her. She was drawn to them, to him.

Before he knew what he was doing, Tavington had leaned in close to Juliana and his lips were pressed against hers, gently at first, then more firmly and more eagerly. He was kissing her, and he liked it. From what he could tell, she liked it, too, because she kissed him back.

A loud thundering noise broke into their shared moment and they parted. "What was that?" Juliana asked.

"I don't know," Tavington said. There was another loud noise like the first, and he looked around them for any clue as to what it might be. He looked out at the ships in the harbor. What he saw both shocked and riled him. "I don't believe it."

"What is it?" Juliana asked. She followed Tavington's line of sight to the harbor and saw what he saw. A ship bearing the American flag was coming in, firing off cannons as she traveled. Juliana turned around and looked at the street. People had come out of their houses to see what the commotion was. A man came riding up on a horse and stopped at the house of one of the men who'd emerged from his house.

"What's going on?" the man on the ground asked.

"It's the Continentals," the mounted man replied. "They're attacking. They're trying to retake Savannah. Get your gun. The militia is organizing to help them. I'm going to round up the other men."

Tavington was taking stock of the situation, and he quickly realized that the situation would soon become dire for him and Juliana. He was wearing his uniform and would no doubt be a prime target when fighting started. He was ill-prepared for a fight with only a dagger and a hand pistol to defend himself.

"We have to get out of here," Tavington said. "Now." He grabbed Juliana by the hand and began to run with her across the bridge.

"Where are we going?" Juliana asked.

"We have to get away from here. If they find me, it's all over for the both of us."

They left the bridge, made a left, and continued to run away from the harbor. "Why don't we just go back to Colonel Hawking's house?" Juliana asked.

"From what I can tell, Hawking is about to have a world of problems without us. Besides, there's no time. The militia's already forming. We'd be spotted before we took two steps toward his house. We need to get away from here and fast."

They ran down the street together, hand-in-hand until they came across a lone horse. There was no saddle on it, but there were reins, thankfully. Tavington pulled himself up onto the animal. He quickly reached down and pulled Juliana on behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I hope Hawking takes my advice," Tavington said with a final look toward the center of town. He looked over his shoulder at Juliana. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Hold on." Gripping the reins, he spurred the horse. They darted off down the street toward the edge of town.

/\/\/

Tavington and Juliana came to a stop just outside Savannah. The horse was tired. It had taken them ten minutes to clear town, and they'd traveled for 20 minutes beyond that at full gallop. They'd stopped beside a small river. It was dark, but there was a full moon out that night, and it offered a pale light that was just enough.

The place where they'd stopped looked familiar to Juliana. "This almost looks like the it could pass for the stream we stopped at on the way to Savannah," she observed.

"That's because it is the same stream," Tavington said. "We're just at a different part of it, further down stream." He dismounted. Juliana tried to dismount, too, but only ended up falling into Tavington's arms. "We're going to have to work on your form," Tavington said.

Juliana smiled at Tavington's quip. She'd made the mistake of looking into his eyes again, and now she couldn't look away.

"You, there! Stop where you are!" someone commanded.

Tavington turned around. A small group of civilian men a few yards away were pointing guns and him and Juliana. The speaker began to come their way, his musket still leveled at the surprised couple. "By order and authority of the Georgia militia, you are under arrest," the man said. "Get your hands up, both of you."

This was precisely the scenario Tavington had been trying to avoid. He'd hoped that he and Juliana had ridden far enough out from Savanna to be free from any danger. Apparently he'd been wrong.

It was dark. If they made a run for it, maybe he and Juliana could lose them in the river. The two of them were standing with their backs to the river now. It was their only avenue of escape. If they were captured, there would be no hope for them.

Tavington discreetly took Juliana's hand, and slowly, he began to back toward the river. He only hoped that Juliana would realize what he was going to do and follow his lead. When she took a step back with him, he knew that she had picked up on his plan.

When they hit the edge of the land, they both looked at each other. It was now or never. They both simply fell backwards into the water. The militia men fired on them almost immediately, but Tavington and Juliana remained underwater. Tavington, still holding on to Juliana's hand, pulled her along underwater for a few more seconds. He was torn: he didn't want to surface and give their pursuers something to shoot at; but at the same time he didn't know how long Juliana could hold her breath and didn't want to run the risk of her passing out underwater. Finally, he made the decision to surface, pulling Juliana up with him. Though they had put some distance between themselves and their attackers, they kept swimming up stream. The bullets they fired weren't coming anywhere near Tavington and Juliana, but that didn't mean they wouldn't start to if Juliana and Tavington stopped, and both of them realized this and kept swimming. Their very lives depended upon it.

They swam over to the bank of the stream and climbed up out of the water and onto dry land, where they began a mad sprint through the woods, away from river. They didn't know where they were going, but they had crossed the river and were headed away from Savannah. They knew it wouldn't be long before they were in British territory again.

They stopped running after they had put some real distance between themselves and the river. Both of them were soaked and winded. Juliana sunk to her knees, panting. Her chest felt like it would explode, her head was beginning to hurt, and she felt like she was about to lose her dinner. And she was freezing. "Do you think they're still following us?" Juliana asked.

Tavington shook his head. "No. I don't think they crossed the river." He kneeled beside Juliana, concerned that she didn't look at all well. "Are you alright?" His breathing was beginning to return to normal.

"I'm okay," Juliana said, still breathing heavily. It wasn't just the running and swimming that had her out of breath; it was also the adrenaline coursing through her. "I just can't seem to catch my breath," she panted.

"Try to take slow deep breaths," Tavington said. "You'll be alright."

Juliana tried to regulate her breathing and her pounding heart by taking one slow breath and then another and another. "I've never been so cold in my life," Juliana said. Her breathing had calmed, but now her teeth chattered.

Tavington took her hands in his and rubbed them. He blew on them, attempting to warm them with his breath. Then he rubbed them some more. "I don't think it's cold enough to do any real harm," he said. He shivered a bit, too, when he spoke. "It just feels that way. We'll be okay; we just have to keep moving. We have to get back to Charles Town, or to one of the other forts. Charles Town is probably the closest. It's about 70 miles away."

"Seventy miles?" Juliana questioned. That sounded like an endless distance to travel by foot.

"It'll take us over a day to get there," Tavington said. "But we have little choice in the matter."

"What do we do?"

Tavington got to his feet. "We start walking." He pulled Juliana to her feet as well, and they began walking towards somewhere, towards anywhere but Savannah right now.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

After a trying night spent fleeing the Georgia militia and traveling through South Carolina woods, Tavington now stood before Cornwallis in his personal quarters at Middleton Place. By luck and God's good graces, at dawn, Tavington and Juliana had come upon a courier for the British who was on his way to Charles Town to pick up materials for his master at. He was able to drive Tavington and Juliana to town, shaving hours off their travel time by getting them to Charles Town by mid-morning. Tavington had reported directly to Cornwallis and had sent Juliana home to rest after their exhaustive night in the woods.

"Colonel Tavington, I have half a mind to draw up orders for your court martial," Cornwallis said, barely containing his anger. "The only thing stopping me at the moment is the knowledge that our forces were able to hold the Continentals at bay and keep them from retaking Savannah."

"I beg your pardon?" Once again, Tavington found himself puzzled by Cornwallis's words. "My lord?"

"You are an officer in the world's most advanced military," Cornwallis said. "I've no doubt that, rising up through the ranks, you were not taught to flee from a conflict. Explain yourself."

"My lord, I was caught in an extremely delicate situation," Tavington began to explain. "You must understand that I was separated from Hawking and any other British military. A street of Continental supporters and militia barred my path back to Hawking's door. To go back would have meant certain death, and I doubt that my premature death would be of any use to the Crown, sir. I believed I could better serve Britain if I survived to fight another day."

Cornwallis was silent while he considered Tavington's explanation. It had merit, but the general couldn't just leave it at that. "You were staying with Colonel Hawking. Why were you away at the time of the attack?"

Tavington swallowed. This was going to be the beginning of the part that Cornwallis would not like. "I went out for some fresh air after dinner, my lord," he said. "I went for a walk."

"A walk," Cornwallis repeated. He turned around to the large window behind him. "Colonel, did anyone happen to accompany you on this walk?"

"Yes, my lord."

Cornwallis turned back to Tavington. "Were you with your girl, Juliana?"

Tavington blinked, taken back by question. "Wh-what? I don't see what that has to do with anything?" Tavington sputtered. In fact, Tavington had foreseen that Cornwallis would ask about Juliana. He'd hoped the subject of Juliana wouldn't come up, but he knew why Cornwallis was asking.

"Were you with her?" Cornwallis repeated his question.

"Yes, sir. She was with me," Tavington revealed.

"Colonel, I thought we'd already settled this issue. I thought I'd made it clear that you're supposed to take care of these improprieties so that they are a non-issue."

"Sir –"

"Now, Colonel, I do not care what you do in private, as it lies outside the sphere of my control; however when you are in public, you are representative of me and, of the Crown, and of Britain. I will not allow you to besmirch the good reputation of the British military because you want to go gallivanting around the colonies with some whore."

"Sir, if you would allow me to explain—"

"This is the last time I want to have this conversation with you, Colonel," Cornwallis said, talking over Tavington. "I will not be happy if this subject comes up between us again. Understood?"

Tavington knew that there were times when speaking was warranted. He also knew that other instances called for silence, and this was one of those times. He resisted the urge to argue. Instead, he swallowed his anger and simply said, "Yes, sir."

Cornwallis closed in on Tavington. "You said that previously, yet here we are a second time speaking of the very same thing."

Tavington refused to wither under the older man's imposing gaze. "I assure you, my lord – this is done," he said.

/\/\/

Juliana sat looking out the window in the sitting room. Her mind kept going back over the events of the past couple of days, and she was incredibly confused because of them. She couldn't determine the nature of Tavington's behavior towards her. Was he being sincere in his actions; or was this only another cruel venture on his part, designed to demonstrate his power over her and humiliate her?

Before she could spend any more time in silent contemplation, the door opened. Juliana stood and expectantly watched the entrance of the sitting room. Tavington appeared in the doorway. Juliana waited for him to say something, anything. But he said nothing. He paused momentarily in the doorway, then moved away.

Juliana sat back down. She had anticipated something, be it either good or bad, from him; but she hadn't expected nothing.

/\/\/

Dinner was silent. Not one word passed between Tavington and Juliana. They barely even looked at each other, only locking eyes two or three times throughout the whole meal. Finally, when she could endure no more, Juliana stood and walked away from the table. She left the dining room, frustrated beyond all hope. She didn't care if it annoyed Tavington; she couldn't stay in that room with him a minute longer. She quickly ascended the stairs and went directly to her room, closing the door behind her.

Juliana looked out the window, but didn't see anything. Her thoughts were on Tavington. That man was going to be the death of her. He was going to cause her to worry herself into an early grave. She knew, now, that this latest development must be another example of his seemingly boundless malice.

Juliana heard the bedroom door open behind her. She didn't turn around, she knew who it was. She wouldn't look at him, wouldn't look into his eyes. She heard him close the door.

"Juliana, perhaps we should talk," he said.

"Why?" Juliana asked. "Is there somethin' to talk about?" She kept her gaze set directly in front of her, refusing to look at Tavington.

"There is. We need to finish the conversation we started in Savannah, before we were so rudely interrupted."

"I thought we had finished talkin'," Juliana said. "When you didn't say anything at dinner, I assumed the matter was settled."

"That isn't – I didn't mean for you to – that wasn't the message I was trying to get across," Tavington said. He was stumbling over his words, sounding like a complete idiot. He needed to reign in his emotions before they ran away from him. He realized that Juliana was intentionally avoiding looking at him. He stepped in front of her, into her direct line of sight. "I didn't know what to say to you." He tried to make eye contact with her, but she deflected by looking down at the floor. Tavington was losing control of the situation, he realized. He hated not being in control, so in an effort to recapture some of that lost power, he grasped her delicate chin between his finger and his thumb and lifted her head, forcing her to look at him.

"There's only one thing I really wanna know, Colonel," Juliana said. She looked deep into his eyes. "Why are doin' this? Isn't it enough that you think of me as nothin' more than an object for you to possess? Isn't it enough that I'm a livin' picture of the shame that you wish on my grandfather? You have to build me up and … make me feel like a person – a woman – and then you rip that feeling away. You must thrive on unkindness, Colonel Tavington."

It was obvious to Tavington that Juliana was frustrated and angry. It excited him. All too often, people cowered in response to his aggression. Juliana had done it, too, at first. Now, she had grown bolder. Her demeanor was a welcome change for Tavington. He bent down and kissed her.

Juliana, stunned, pulled away. She turned from him, but Tavington wrapped his arms around her and reeled her back to him. Her back was pressed flat against his chest now.

"I knew it wouldn't be long before it came to this," she said. "If you want to have your way with me, there's a much easier way to go about it. I won't fight you."

"How very wise of you," Tavington told her. He held her for a few moments longer before speaking again. "I must confess – I am a little confused by your reaction. When I kissed you in Savannah, you didn't seem to mind at all."

"Don't flatter yourself, Colonel," Juliana said defensively. "I was terrified of you."

"Oh, really?" Tavington was skeptical. "Well, you don't seem very afraid now. Why the sudden change?"

"You saved my life, Colonel. I figured that if you wanted any real harm to come to me, you would have left me to face those militia men on my own. But you didn't. You risked your life to save mine."

"Now you're the one who flatters yourself. I saved you to preserve a valuable piece of property; so don't fool yourself into thinking there was anything else to it all." His voice fell to a whisper. "I will say something, though – when I kissed you, you liked it."

Juliana didn't deny it, but she struggled against Tavington, and he held her tight. "So much for not fighting," Tavington said. He walked her over to the bed, turned her around and laid her down on her back.

"You would do this, even after I saved you?" Juliana questioned

"You saved me, I saved you. I'd say we're even. Be glad that you saved me. You're about to have the time of your life." His body covered hers, and he kissed her hungrily.

"I know you, Colonel," Juliana said. "I've witnessed your behavior these last few days. That was you, that was the real person. This – what you're doin' now – this isn't the real you."

He stopped, reflecting on her words. What was he doing? He wanted to have her, so much that it hurt, but like this? Not by force but without her consent.

Juliana continued. "I don't know what happened while you were out today, but someone has said somethin', somethin' to bring out this change in you."

Tavington stood. Juliana had taken a guess and had guessed correctly. She'd hit the nail on the head without even knowing it. It scared him to death that someone could seemingly peer into his soul so easily. He stepped away from Juliana and the bed, a little dazed.

Juliana pulled herself to a sitting position where she was on the bed. "I don't think I know all that much about you," Juliana began. "I've only known you for a couple of months. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I know more about you than I think I do. I don't know. What I'm gettin' at, Colonel, is that you're a man who doesn't like to be told what to do or how to do it, from what I can see." She stood and walked up to him. "You shouldn't let them tell you how you should be."

Tavington looked down at her. She had a point, but it was easier said than done for a person bound by the constraints of military life. He left her room and left her alone.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Tavington had left two days ago, and Juliana was glad that he was gone. It gave her a chance to be free of him, if only for a short while. When she'd first been placed into this unpleasant situation after meeting Tavington, her life then had at least been tolerable, despite all its dismal reality. Now, her life here was just plain unbearable, never knowing where she stood with Tavington, what she was to him. But when he was a way, she could think clearly, and that's what she needed to be able to do now. She assumed he'd left for Middleton Place, but she really didn't care where he'd run off to.

Juliana was feeling rebellious the day she decided to go to the general store. Tavington never liked for her to go out alone. She had never understood the thinking behind that. It wasn't as if she were going anywhere. There was no where to go. If she ran away, she risked being recaptured by the British army. Or worse, yet, by some opportunistic plantation owner.

There wasn't anything in particular that Juliana needed from the store. She would probably find something insignificant once she arrived, though. She went because she needed to get away from the house. She wanted to think.

She was still thinking when she walked into the store. And she was still thinking when a young man spoke to her and broke into her thoughts.

"Can I help you find somethin'?"

Juliana assumed it was a store clerk, and didn't bother to look up at him. "No, thank you."

"You sure?" the man persisted. "You seem a little … lost."

Juliana finally looked up at the man, and saw that he was not a store clerk but a British military officer. A _negro_ British military officer.

"Oh – hello," Juliana greeted. "I … thought you were a store clerk."

"I used to be." The man grinned with pride. "But I guess it's obvious what I do now." He straightened, emphasizing his crisp, red uniform.

Juliana nodded, not really all that impressed, but a little intrigued, nonetheless. "I see," she said. She continued her walk through the store, and he kept up alongside her. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Joseph Robinson," the man said, flashing another toothy grin. He was a handsome fellow, with smooth, brown skin and big brown eyes. "What's yours?" he asked her in turn.

"Juliana," she replied.

"That's a pretty name," Joseph complimented. "Pretty name for an even prettier lady … So, back to my original question – can I help you find something?"

"And back to my original answer: No, thank you," Juliana said, smiling. She walked away from Joseph, and he watched her pay for something and then walk out of the store. He ran after her, catching up with her out on the street.

"You know, there ain't many masters 'round here that let their slaves go around town by themselves," Joseph told her, walking with her away from the store. "They do things like that up in places like Philadelphia and Boston, but it doesn't work like that down here in the South. The average slave around here is in the fields or in the house."

"I know," Juliana said. "But I don't I'm what you would call average."

"Really? Well, I don't know you all that well, so you'll have to oblige me when I ask what makes you so different? Who's your master?"

"I'm stayin' with Colonel Tavington." Juliana watched him for any reaction. He was an officer in the British military; he no doubt knew who Tavington was.

"The Dragoons commander?" Joseph asked.

"The very same."

Joseph's expression fell, and he became solemn and apologetic. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said.

"Why do you sound like that?" Juliana asked, feigning ignorance. "You would think I just told you I was gonna die."

"You have to live with the Butcher. It's just about the same thing."

Juliana nodded knowingly. "So you've heard the stories, too." She wasn't surprised.

"They aren't stories - they're real," Joseph insisted.

"I live with the man. He has his days when he isn't exactly in the best mood, but I don't think I could ever believe that he's guilty of the things people accuse him of," Juliana said, defending Tavington. She couldn't figure out why she took the position that she did.

Joseph shook his head. "I _know_ they aren't stories. I know what people say is true 'cause I've seen it with my own eyes."

This got Juliana's attention. She didn't have to ask Joseph to tell her what he saw.

"It was one night, a couple of months ago, now, I suppose," he began. "My outfit was with Tavington's unit on a raid. We closed in on this innocent-lookin' house. I can't remember the exact name of who it belonged to. I think it was Harrison, or somethin'."

Juliana listened intently. It had to be a coincidence. He couldn't be telling her what she thought he was.

Joseph continued. "Tavington entered the house with some of his men. They looted it for all the valuables, of course. That's expected. They ordered the slaves to line up out in the front yard. I remember that the cold was somethin' dreadful, and most of the slaves only wore their sleeping clothes. I was expectin' the master of the house and the missus to come out of the house after the slaves … but they never came out. The next thing I know, I hear two loud gunshots. Tavington came out shortly after, told us to light fire to the house. I don't know what ever happened to the slaves. I guess now they're doin' what you're doin' – working for the British Army."

Joseph's story made Juliana's blood turn to ice. She shivered internally. She knew that cold that Joseph spoke of. It had been her very own story that he had unknowingly relayed back to her.

"Is that how you ended up in the British military?" Juliana inquired. "Were you rounded up and confiscated on some raid and forced into service?"

"No. I joined of my own free will. I took Lord Dunmore up on his proclamation. How did you end up with Tavington?"

" … I was sent there to work," Juliana lied. "The usual." They reached Tavington's house and stopped walking. "This is where I live. Thank you for seein' me home. I'll make sure the colonel knows about it. If you're lucky, it'll put you in his good graces."

Joseph nodded skeptically. "I'm sure." Juliana turned to go, but Joseph stopped her. "Juliana?" She turned to him. "Be careful. Take care of yourself."

"I appreciate your concern. But I really don't think it's necessary. Tavington – he isn't what he appears to be." When she spoke, Juliana was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince this stranger that she'd met today.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Tavington dismounted and handed his horse off to one of the workers eagerly waiting to take care of it for him. As soon as he walked into the house, a house servant was there to take his helmet and his coat.

"Tell Eugenia to prepare a bath for me," Tavington told the girl. She was a young slave girl of about 13 named Jenny. He'd taken on more slaves to replace Eleanor and Nathan. This time around he had Jenny, an older woman in her 30s named Eugenia, and a male, coincidentally named William. And then there was Juliana.

Never before had he met someone quite like Juliana. If he were in her place, he would have left a long time ago, or would have tried to, at least. She had even saved his life … and he'd saved hers.

Tavington didn't know how to deal with her. How should he act around her? What should he say? She wasn't like the rest of the slaves or servants, not in his eyes. And so the question presented itself, that eternal question that had persistently been at issue since the night he'd brought her home: what was she to him? She was more than a servant, obviously. He had claimed her as a possession, but he knew how inadequate, and inappropriate to boot, that notion was. What the devil was it?

The sun hadn't yet set, but Tavington was dead tired. Rigorous battle would do that to a person. So would making a long trip on horseback. Tavington had a week-long furlough ahead of him, and he'd be damned if he were going to spend it in some godforsaken army tent. He didn't want to be anywhere near Cornwallis if he didn't have to be. After the battle, Cornwallis had pounced on him about his growing reputation as 'the Butcher', as if Tavington were the one who'd created the moniker and started using it to refer to himself.

Tavington had done some of his best work at Camden, but it hadn't seemed to matter to Cornwallis because all the general had been concerned with was reputation. It made no sense to Tavington, but it angered him all the same. And that anger was exhausting him even more, he realized. He decided to give it a rest for the night. Cornwallis would soon see. He would soon recognize Tavington's value as an officer and realize how fortunate he was to have the benefit of his services.

Tavington headed straight for the stairs. The thought of climbing them was nearly enough to make him consider sleeping in his study. But he summoned up the strength to make it to the second level of the house. After all, at the top of those stairs, and a few paces down the hall from there, a comfortable bed was waiting for him. And very soon, he would be soaking nice, hot bath.

Tavington reached the top of the staircase in no time. His mind still focused on his bath and his bed, he made a right and almost collided with Juliana.

"Colonel Tavington," she said, surprised. "I didn't know you would be returning today."

"Disappointed?" Tavington asked sarcastically. It wouldn't surprise him if she never wanted to see him again after what had happened after Savannah.

"No, sir – just a bit startled," Juliana replied. Tavington moved past her, resuming course to his room. "Everything is well at Middleton Place, I take it?" Juliana called after him.

Tavington stopped and turned to her with a questioning gaze. "Middleton Place?" he repeated.

"Yes," Juliana confirmed. "That is where you've been for the last week – isn't it?"

"No, I was in Camden," he said matter-of-factly.

"Camden?" Juliana studied Tavington. He seemed worn, exhausted, even. It was now clear to Juliana that he had been through some type of ordeal.

"We had a battle with Continentals," Tavington elaborated. "We won, of course, and quite easily. But it was rather taxing physically, as it always is." He studied Juliana's reaction. "You didn't know. You mean you hadn't heard from any of the soldiers around here?" News of military engagements had a way of traveling quickly throughout the ranks, and Tavington had no doubt that this instance was no different.

Juliana shook her head. "No. I thought you went to Middleton Place to ... " Juliana's words trailed. The morning after their eventful return from Savannah, Juliana had awakened, and Tavington was nowhere to be found. She'd assumed that he'd gone to Middleton Place, to get away from her most likely.

"To what?" Tavington asked, narrowing his gaze. Juliana didn't answer, and

Tavington nodded, taking in the silence. Ordinarily, he would have prodded her for an explanation, but at this point, he was so tired that he just didn't care. "Well, now you know." Without another word, he turned and walked into his room, nearly slamming the door behind him.

/\/\/

Tavington slowly lowered his aching body into the tub of steaming water. Eugenia hadn't finished bringing water up from the kitchen, yet, but she only had a few more trips to make before the tub would be full, and Tavington had found the idea of waiting unbearable. He reclined, resting his head against the cool porcelain and closing his eyes. At that moment, he realized just how fortunate he was to have somewhere to call home in the colonies. Most of the poor blokes in the ranks would be stuck in military tents for their entire tour of duty. Rank does have its privileges, he thought as he soaked in the steaming water.

The bedroom door soon opened. After a trail of footsteps, Tavington heard water being added to his bath. "Thank you, Eugenia," Tavington said, his eyes still closed. "I know I can always count on you to prepare a first rate bath for me."

"I'll have to make sure to give her the message."

Tavington's eyes sprung open and found Juliana, not Eugenia, standing over the tub, an empty pail in her hands. His entire body instinctively tensed. He was surprised by the discovery, to say the least. "Juliana," he said. "I thought you were Eugenia." He looked around for something to cover himself with, but there wasn't anything within arm's reach. His face grew warm, and he knew his cheeks had flushed, though he couldn't exactly explain why.

"I'm sorry, Colonel," Juliana said. A tiny wave of embarrassment hit her, and she tried to find something else, anything else, to look at besides the naked man in the bathtub in front of her. She found an interesting mark on the water pail, which she began to examine in an overly attentive manner. "I didn't mean to alarm you," she said, her eyes trained on the bucket. "Eugenia had to tend to somethin' else. I told her I would finish preparin' your bath. Before I came in, I didn't realize you had already gotten in. I'll give you your privacy, now."

"Thank you, Juliana," Tavington said, relieved that she was leaving. He allowed himself to relax a little.

Juliana, relieved, began to walk toward the door. As she passed Tavington, however, her eyes caught a glimpse of his face as he grimaced in apparent pain. She knew the best thing to do would be to leave. She should have kept right on walking toward the door and left. But she didn't. Instead, she stopped and turned to him. "You're hurt," she observed. "Did somethin' happen to you while you were fightin'?"

"No, I'm just tired," Tavington insisted. "I'll be fine after a few days' rest."

Juliana felt the indefinable desire, to do something to help, despite the fact that he insisted he was fine. She walked back over to the tub and kneeled behind him, placing the water pail on the floor beside her. Not sure what she was doing or why, she gently placed her hands on Tavington's shoulders. She didn't know why she was doing this. When it came to Tavington, though, she never knew the logic behind most her actions, and lately, her behavior had become more and more illogical. Almost immediately, she felt Tavington's muscles tense beneath her fingers.

"Juliana … what are you doing?" he asked.

"It will help the soreness," Juliana replied. She gently but firmly kneaded his firm muscles, attempting to work the knots out. She closed her eyes to keep from looking at Tavington's broad shoulders.

Tavington resisted. "That really isn't necessary," he said, refusing relax in her hands.

Juliana stopped her ministrations, but her hands remained on Tavington. "I'm sorry," she said. She opened her eyes, but quickly averted them to the floor. "I can't seem to do anything right tonight. First, I interrupt your bath; and now … I'll leave you, now." She moved to rise, but Tavington caught her by the wrist.

"No, don't," he said without turning to look at her. "Stay." He let go of her hand and made a genuine effort to relax. "It is rather nice," he complimented.

Juliana repositioned herself on the floor behind Tavington and began to massage his shoulders again. She looked around the room as she did, determined not to look at Tavington. "I wish I had known that you were goin' off to fight," she said. "I would have done somethin' for you, made sure you had a proper send-off before you left."

"I would have told you, except, I assumed you wouldn't really care one way or the other," Tavington said. He closed his eyes, finally relaxing and melting into her hands. He had to exert great effort to keep himself from moaning aloud. "My, you do have a talent for this, don't you?"

Juliana's lips curled into a small grin. "It isn't anything all that special," she said. She finally gave up on trying to keep her eyes off Tavington. She looked at him, but tried to concentrate on his shoulders, where her hands were. "It all stems from wantin' to help, I guess," she said.

"That's one of the things that continues to intrigue me the most about you, Juliana," Tavington revealed. "You continue to remain here, to help, as you put it, and you seem to do it without complaining. But I know, or at least I get the feeling that you don't really want to be here. Isn't that accurate?"

"It's true, this isn't exactly how I thought I'd be spendin' my days," Juliana confirmed.

"Then why—"

"I do it, Colonel, because I don't know what else to do, because I don't have anything else to do," Juliana cut him off. "It's my lot in life, Colonel. I have a job to do, just like you."

"No," Tavington argued. "I told you what your job was, remember? No work was ever required of you. You never had to do anything but what I ordered. Half the things you do, I never requested. Like this, the bath – it was your choice to take over for Eugenia. What I want to know is why? Tell me – and this time, it _is_ an order."

Juliana stopped what she was doing, and rested on her heels, her hands remaining on Tavington. She'd been avoiding the question, refusing to answer to herself when she asked it. Now, Tavington was asking, and he wanted an answer.

Tavington turned around and looked at her from his spot in the tub. "I shouldn't have asked that. It's one of those questions that is potentially impossible to answer. I suppose I know that because I can't seem to find an answer for … my own actions and reactions."

Juliana eyed him questioningly. "What do you mean?" she asked. She questioned him, but she already knew the answer before the words even left her mouth. For all that had happened after Savannah, she remembered what had happened while they'd still been _in_ Savannah. That kiss was still on her mind. She knew now that it was still on Tavington's mind as well.

Tavington reached and took Juliana's hand.Her eyes locked with his, and she couldn't break away. She didn't want to break away. She was drawn to him.

She let him pull her to him.

Her heart raced when he touched her face. It raced because she was so excited that she couldn't find her voice and could barely find enough air to get to her lungs, and it raced because she didn't exactly know what the next moments would bring.

Tavington could see the sliver of fear dancing in her dark eyes. "Don't be afraid," he whispered into her ear. "I won't hurt you." He gently stroked her hair and back to drive home his point. "Do you trust me, Juliana?"

Juliana looked into his eyes and remembered how he'd saved her on more than one occasion. To some extent, she'd trusted him then. Why not now? She nodded. "Yes," she managed.

Gently, Tavington touched his lips with Juliana's. He knew he would regret this. He didn't know when he would, exactly, but he knew he would. He was supposed to be drawing lines, setting boundaries with Juliana, and now he was crossing them before they were even in place. The odd part was that he didn't care about any of it. He was a man of purpose who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. Right now, he wanted Juliana.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Tavington awoke the next morning and realized that what had happened the night before had not been a dream. Juliana had come into his bedroom while Tavington had been bathing, and things just seemed to spiral out of control between her and Tavington from there. They spent an intense night together, and now Juliana was in his bed, in his arms, sleeping serenely.

Tavington closed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. He couldn't even lie to himself; last night had been something he'd both wanted and needed. It had been far too long since he'd been with a woman. He had needed to feel that kind of physical connection again. But he knew it had all been more than just physical. He hadn't wanted to be with just any woman; he'd wanted to be with Juliana.

He sighed internally, frustrated that he'd once again failed to control his own feelings. What kind of ramifications would his weaknesses create for him, now? It wasn't actually possible that this … whatever it was he had with Juliana would lead to anywhere – was it? It couldn't. She was a slave, and he was her master. This was the most that would come of it, he decided, and this time would be the only time. It had to be.

Tavington did still have Caroline to consider. Maybe she would provide a way out of this emotional mess he'd created for himself. He'd met Caroline Staton at a dinner party the previous summer and had corresponded regularly with her in the time since. Many already assumed they were courting, and perhaps they were, in the vaguest sense of the word. Perhaps, Tavington mused, he should allow their relationship to progress to another level.

Yes, Tavington encouraged himself. If he had someone else to lavish his attention and affection on, his mind wouldn't linger on Juliana, and his problem would find a cure for itself. He looked down at Juliana. He had to distance himself from her. That was the key, the answer. It was the only way it would all work out. Another thought along those same lines found its way into his head: should he simply get rid of her? Was that the answer? To sell her?

He slowly slid out from underneath Juliana, not wanting to wake her. Nevertheless, as soon as he'd made it across the room to the dresser and pulled on a clean pair of breeches, Juliana stirred to a waking state. Tavington's back was to her, but he heard her behind him, moving on the bed.

Juliana blinked a few times and rubbed away the bleariness temporarily clouding her vision. She looked across the room and saw Tavington pulling his uniform on. "You're goin' back?" she asked.

"I'm needed back at base," Tavington said curtly, not bothering to turn and face her. He slipped his arms into a fresh uniform shirt.

"But I thought you said you had a few days off?" Juliana said. She pushed herself up to a seated position on the bed.

"Pardon me for following orders," Tavington snapped. "The last time I checked, I don't require your blessing to follow the orders handed down to me."

Juliana blinked, momentarily taken aback by the change that had seemed to occur in Tavington at some point during the night. "No. Of course you don't need my blessin'." The tone of her voice manifested a change in her demeanor as well. She slid out of bed and began to gather her own clothing. She began to pull on her dress. "You apparently don't need me for anything except bein' an ornament for you to parade around at parties and for somethin' to provide entertainment in your bed."

Tavington whirled around to finally face her. "What did you say?" he demanded.

"You heard me. Those are the only reasons you keep me around." Juliana picked up a few more items of clothing, some of them hers, some of them Tavington's. Then, she stopped abruptly and turned to Tavington. "Are you even capable of feeling, Colonel?" she asked.

"What concern is to you?" Tavington spat.

"It's my concern because it's my feelings that are involved," Juliana retorted. "Every time we take a step forward together, it's as if you take two giant steps backward." She walked across the room to retrieve more articles of clothing.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Tavington said defensively. Juliana was getting to close for his comfort.

Juliana threw the clothes in her arms down on the bed. "I do know one thing -- I will not be your plaything!" she declared.

Tavington crossed the distance between himself and Juliana. He grabbed Juliana roughly by the arms and said, "You will be whatever I require you to be!"

Juliana shrugged out of his grasp. "Your threats and intimidation tactics won't work on me any longer, Colonel."

"How dare you speak to me in that manner," Tavington hissed.

Juliana looked up at Tavington. "I know what you're doin', Colonel. If bein' here, if havin' me here is too much for you to handle, just fix the situation. Pass me off to Bordon, Wilkins, or some other officer, or sell me. I just can't take this not knowin' where I stand with you. One moment, I'm your lover; the next, you're as cold to me as you would be to some stranger. I don't care what you do; I just need to know where I stand, what I can expect from you, how I should react." She stepped closer to him. "I don't believe that you actually want to be so harsh, so cold. I think you're fightin' somethin' inside you, somethin' that's telling you that you're not supposed to act civilly toward me. I don't know what that somethin' is, or why it's takin' such a hold on you. But I feel like it's a contest between it and me, and I'm losin'. I don't want to compete, Colonel. It's a contest I can't win. You can go run back to your base and your military life guilt-free, without any concerns about where we stand."

She picked up the remainder of her clothing from the bed, turned, and walked out of the room. As Tavington watched her go, he knew she was right, but he could never tell her that. He was running, hiding from his feelings. But it was necessary. He couldn't travel down this path with her. It was trouble. She had suggested that he sell her, and maybe he should. Right now, it seemed like an awfully good idea.

/\/\/

"Colonel Tavington?"

Tavington, still in his bedroom putting the finishing touches on his uniform, turned around. Eugenia stood in the open doorway. "Yes, Eugenia, what is it?" he asked.

"Captain Bordon is downstairs, sir," Eugenia replied.

"Tell him I'll be down shortly," Tavington instructed.

"Yes, Colonel." Eugenia disappeared from the doorway, and Tavington turned back to his reflection in the mirror. He fastened the last button on his coat and straightened his collar one final time.

Bordon always had been one of the few people Tavington felt that he could truly count on. His presence here, however, was quite a surprise for Tavington, since this was supposed to be a furlough, and Tavington had not sent for him. Perhaps a situation had developed with regard to the war. Tavington hoped that was the situation. He desperately needed something that would take him away from this house.

/\/\/

In the foyer, Captain James Bordon patiently waited for Tavington to appear. He surveyed his surroundings while he waited, and it dawned on him that this was the first time he'd been to Tavington's house since the colonel had moved. It was more than just a nice house. It was practically grand, which was right up Tavington's alley.

And here was something else that was grand walking toward him. Juliana, one of Tavington's house slaves. Bordon had seen her with Tavington at numerous parties, and she'd always fascinated him. He was certain she had that effect on a number of the men who encountered her socially. He was also certain that Tavington found her equally fascinating, which was probably one of the reasons why he dragged her along to all the social events.

"Could I get you anything, Captain?" Juliana offered. "Somethin' to drink, perhaps?"

"No, thank you," Bordon replied. "I'm fine for now." He could see how it might be easy for someone to fall prey to her charms. She was so beautiful but so innocent. It was man's natural instinct to want to protect such a creature, regardless of whether or not she was a slave. Bordon wondered why he was never lucky enough to have slaves like Juliana come into his possession. Most of the house slaves he'd ever owned had been fat, old, ugly, or all three.

"If you want, you can rest in the sittin' room while you wait," Juliana told Bordon.

"That won't be necessary, Juliana."

Bordon and Juliana both turned their respective gazes to the staircase in time to see Tavington energetically descending. Tavington's eyes locked with Juliana's until he was at the bottom of the stairs. "Thank you for seeing to Captain Bordon, Juliana. That will be all for now," Tavington said dismissively.

"Yes, Colonel," Juliana muttered obediently. She left the two officers alone.

Bordon turned to Tavington. "You're a lucky man, Colonel, to have such a well-mannered, obedient worker in your possession," Bordon complimented.

"Yes," Tavington said knowingly. "You have no idea … but surely you're not here to discuss my good fortune in acquiring servants."

"No, sir," Bordon confirmed.

"What is it, then? Has something happened at base? Have we been given a new assignment?" Tavington attacked Bordon with a barrage of rapid-fire questions.

Bordon shook his head, indicating the negative. "No, sir, nothing like that. I've come to relay a message from his Lordship. To celebrate our victory at Camden, the Lord General intends to hold a ball."

Tavington rolled his eyes. "_This_ is the message he wanted to send? It's a bit much to send it through you. I'm sure a simple letter barrier would have been sufficient."

"Of course, sir," Bordon agreed. "However, there's more. In recognition of your actions on the field, his Lordship wishes for the ball to take place here, at your residence."

"Here?" Tavington's mind raced. "When?"

"This Friday evening," Bordon informed him.

"That's only two days," Tavington said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, sir," Bordon said.

Damn, Tavington thought. The Lord General despised being embarrassed, and that was exactly what would happen if this party didn't go smoothly. He had two days to get this event organized, or his head would be on Cornwallis's platter at the next one. He didn't know anything about planning a party. But he knew someone who did, and it was just his luck that he'd infuriated her earlier that morning.

/\/\/

Tavington found her on the balcony outside her bedroom. Bordon had left shortly after he'd arrived, but that had been nearly an hour ago. Tavington had spent the hour trying to think of the best way to approach Juliana about this party that was now his responsibility. He stepped outside and joined her on the balcony. She gazed out at the back lawn, not really focusing on anything. He drew in the first breath to speak, but Juliana spoke before he could.

"You want me to help you with this party, don't you?" Juliana asked. She looked at Tavington, mildly amused by his perplexed expression. "I overheard you and Captain Bordon talkin'."

Tavington nodded. "I would appreciate your help, yes. And since you say threats and intimidation are no longer effective, I'm left only with the option of asking. Will you help me?"

"I will, Colonel, because it's what I'm supposed to do. As I said last night, it's my lot in life." She walked back into the bedroom, leaving Tavington on the balcony.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Friday evening arrived after two hectic days spent trying to settle the details of the party that had unexpectedly been thrust into Tavington's hands. Food preparation, music, and extra servants – all of it was arranged in time for the party; most of it was arranged solely by Juliana. By the time Friday evening rolled around, Juliana was running ragged trying to make sure everything was in place. She'd helped plan parties like this for Mr. Harris, but she'd never had the responsibility of planning one by herself. Fortunately for Tavington, everything fell into its proper place.

The night would be divided into two portions. The first, beginning at approximately 6:30, would be the intimate dinner part of the evening. Tavington would dine with ten guests in the dining room. The actual party portion of the evening would begin after dinner had concluded, and would take place on the back lawn of the premises. Fifty additional guests were expected for this part of the occasion.

The dinner guests began to arrive at around six p.m. Tonight, Eugenia had Juliana's usual task of seeing to guests and making sure they were comfortable. Tonight, Juliana's place was in the kitchen and anywhere else she would need to be to coordinate this effort so that it ran smoothly.

The first course of the meal was taken out to the dinner guests promptly at 6:30 p.m. Twelve people sat around the table: Cornwallis, O'Hara, Bordon, Captain Robert Watts, Tavington, and Benjamin Smith, another colonel. Joining each of the men at the table was a female companion. Tavington sat at one end of the table, while Cornwallis occupied the other end.

"Colonel Tavington," Smith began, "I must commend you for you work on the field at Camden. It is certain that our victory would not have been possible were it not for your Dragoon unit." Smith was slightly shorter than the average officer and rounder, too. His appearance, however, was deceptive. The man could hold his own in combat. He was an excellent swordsman and an even better marksman.

Tavington smiled. Finally, he was getting the recognition he deserved. "Thank you, Colonel Smith," he said with pride. "It's appreciated."

"Colonel, you have such a lovely home here." It was Smith's wife, Bettie. She was a petite woman with dark, auburn hair and a pleasant face. "I'm so glad we're having this party here. How long has it been since you first moved into this house?"

"Only a couple of months," Tavington replied.

"You've done wonders with it in such a short time," Bettie marveled.

"It's quite easy when your home falls into your hands already decorated," O'Hara chimed in. "Colonel Tavington acquired this house during a raid."

Tavington glared at O'Hara. The man had a talent for jumping on the first opportunity to belittle Tavington.

"Gentlemen, must we speak of such unpleasant things tonight?" Sarah Davis asked. She was there as Watts's guest. "We're supposed to be enjoying ourselves tonight."

"Ms. Davis is right," Cornwallis agreed. "There'll be no more war talk this evening. That's an order, gentlemen." He looked around the table, his eyes connecting with those of every officer at the table.

Down in the kitchen, Juliana was doing everything she could to make sure this evening didn't fall apart on Tavington.

"Is the soup ready to go upstairs to the dinin' room, yet?" she eagerly asked Eugenia.

"Jenny's bringin' it out of the fire now," Eugenia said. She and Juliana looked over at the hearth in time to see Jenny thoroughly burn her arm as she was removing the soup pot from the fire. Juliana cringed when the girl screamed out in pain. She knew the girl hadn't screamed on purpose, but she also knew that the scream had been loud enough to be heard upstairs in the dining room.

Everyone in the dining room heard the scream, and they all looked to Tavington for an explanation. He was, after all, the host.

He pasted a reassuring expression on his face. "I'm sure it's nothing too serious," he said. One look from him was all that was needed to send the dining room servant down to the kitchen to investigate.

"Get some butter," Juliana instructed, leading a crying Jenny to a nearby chair. She kneeled and looked at the girl's arm, studying her injury. The burn was bad. Juliana didn't know exactly how bad, but she knew it was bad enough to keep the girl from serving food in the dining room.

Eugenia appeared at Juliana's side with the butter. Juliana took some and gingerly rubbed it on Jenny's arm, causing the girl to grimace. "I know it's gonna hurt, but you're gonna have to keep rubbin' this butter on it for a few minutes." Juliana stood up.

"What we gon' do?" Eugenia asked. "It's gon' make things awfully slow if we only got one person to take the food up and help serve."

"I'll have to take her place," Juliana said. She looked over at the preparation table. Thankfully, someone had had enough initiative to put the soup in the bowls and prepare the serving trays. The servant from the dining room descended the stairs into the kitchen just in time to pick up a tray full of soup-filled bowls.

"What's goin' on down here?" the dining room servant asked, picking up the first tray. "We heard screamin' from upstairs."

"Oh, nothin'; Jenny just burned her arm, is all," Juliana said, dismissively. "I'm gonna have to take her place until dinner is over. Come on; we've got to get this soup upstairs before it gets too cold." She picked up the remaining tray and followed the servant up the stairs.

When Tavington saw the dinner servant emerge from the kitchen carrying a soup tray, he figured that everything must be all right in the kitchen. When he saw Juliana come up after her, he reconsidered. His curious eyes remained trained on her while she and the other servant placed the bowls of soup before the dinner guests. She only looked at him once, after the soup had finished being served. He saw her eyes momentarily slide to the seat next to him, occupied by Caroline Staton. For reasons Tavington could not explain, he did not want Juliana to see him sitting beside Caroline, and when she did see them beside each other, he wished he could shrink and disappear right in his seat. Juliana remained in the dining room for a few more minutes to make sure that she wouldn't be needed. When she was certain that she wouldn't be, she disappeared back into the kitchen.

A hundred questions raced through Juliana's head once she was back down in the kitchen. Who was the woman? Was she there with Tavington? Had they known each other long? What was the nature of their relationship?

"Are you alright?"

Juliana turned to Eugenia, who, apparently, had walked up to her when she'd come back into the kitchen, thought Juliana hadn't noticed the movement at all. "I'm fine," Juliana said, focusing her attention back on what had to be done now. "Let's get the next course ready. They'll be finished with the soup in no time."

/\/\/

The back lawn wasn't nearly as grand as that of Middleton Place, but it was large enough to accommodate the fifty guests who arrived after dinner and was enclosed by a tall brick fence. The guests, a mixture of British officers and local Loyalists, arrived and seemingly fell in love with house and the grounds. They milled about, chattering, drinking, listening to the string quintet that had been hired for the occasion. All the while, Juliana remained inside, overseeing the servants from her base in the kitchen. The first time she ventured outside was at around midnight. By that time, the party had begun to die down. Most of the guests had left, and the few stragglers that remained were preparing to depart.

Juliana stepped out onto the back lawn and found it virtually deserted. It had been such a nice evening. There had been no major disasters, and everything had gone as it was supposed to. Juliana had saved Tavington's neck … again. She shook her head and began to stroll onto the lawn.

She didn't know why she'd done it, why she'd helped him out in this manner. Maybe it was the hope that he would come to his senses and finally be nice to her. Or maybe it was just her inherent good nature. Juliana knew that both of those explanations probably had something to do with her actions; she just didn't know which one held more weight.

"It's such a pleasant evening," Caroline said, sitting down on one of the stone benches that lined a row of bushes. The bushes separated the lawn into two sections, providing a semi-secluded spot to enjoy the fountain located at the far end of the yard. "Spring will be here soon," she commented.

"It will, indeed," Tavington said. "The arrival of our first battle of the season is indicative of that. May I?" he asked, indicating the spot on the bench beside Caroline.

"Of course," Caroline said. Tavington dutifully perched on the bench beside Caroline. "Have you given any thought to what you will do after the war, Colonel? It seems as if it won't last for much longer."

"You're right. These rebels won't be able to withstand much more. It will only be some time, now." Tavington studied Caroline. She wasn't unattractive. Her chestnut hair was up presently, but he imagined that it was quite lovely whenever she let it down. Her eyes were big and green, and she had a small aquiline nose above her small, smiling mouth.

Physically, and also socially, she was acceptable. Tavington's problem with her was that she was an idiot. To say that he found her intellectually boring would be an understatement. He dreaded receiving letters from her because they were absolutely of no substance whatsoever, and her conversations were full of idle chit-chat that Tavington had neither interest in nor patience for. That was one thing, at least, about Juliana – however awkward their conversations ended up being, they were _never_ boring.

Juliana. Tavington couldn't help but think about how much more he'd rather be sitting here with her than with the dunce currently beside him. But therein lay the problem. He redoubled his efforts to appear interested.

"As for what I will do after the war," Tavington resumed, "I haven't given it much detailed thought. I've been so preoccupied with my duties. I suppose I might return to England … " He looked at the fountain. He wouldn't be able to take Juliana with him if he went back to England. Juliana's service in Tavington's household would undoubtedly be counted as service to the Crown, and all slaves who served Britain during the war were to be freed. And what were the chances that she would want to go with him of her own free will? Not after he'd been so cruel.

Tavington blinked a few times, realizing that his thoughts had just wandered back to Juliana. He had to figure out a way to keep his mind off her. This wouldn't be so difficult if he'd just been able to control himself initially.

He turned back to Caroline, who was beaming and staring at him expectantly. "I could also remain here in the colonies and establish myself here," Tavington continued. "Actually, it's quite funny that you should bring the whole issue up. I know we haven't known each other for very long."

"We've been corresponding for nearly a year, now … William," Caroline gushed.

Tavington feigned surprise and tried to mask the annoyance that developed at her decision to call him by his given name. "Oh? Has it been that long already? It certainly hasn't seemed like that much time has passed."

"They say when two people who have a true connection meet, they lose track of time because they're so engrossed with each other," Caroline offered.

Tavington found the sound of her voice increasingly annoying, but he fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Right," he said. "Nevertheless, we've only actually met on a few occasions previously. Even so, I feel as if there's a connection between us."

"I've felt the very same!" Caroline exploded. "I've been hoping that you possessed those feelings."

Tavington smiled despite the feeling that this all felt so wrong. "Yes. Well, I realize that I'm not exactly the youngest man to have ever called on you. My life in the military has left me with little time for other traditional endeavors, such as settling down and starting a family. Until recently, that is."

Caroline pressed her finger to Tavington's lips. "Don't say another word. I've been dreaming of this very moment since I was a little girl. Let us not sully it with mere words."

Tavington took her words as his cue to kiss her. He leaned in close and gently pressed his lips against hers. He was sorely disappointed. Not only was she an idiot, but she also didn't know how to kiss. Juliana, on the other hand, was a different story. Her kisses were –

He parted from Caroline. His plan of trying to find a distraction was not working. He couldn't go five minutes without thinking about Juliana.

"Oh, William – I'm so happy," Caroline proclaimed with a broad smile. Tavington managed a lackluster smile of his own. Caroline threw her arms around her new fiancé. "William, we simply must keep your servant girl on with us after we're wed," she said.

"Which one?" Tavington asked.

"The one standing by the bushes there," Caroline replied.

Tavington turned around on the bench ready to deliver a verbal lashing to the person invading his privacy. His heart jumped into his throat, however, when he saw who was standing there. It was Juliana. How long had she been there, he wondered. It didn't matter. The look on her face told him that she had seen enough.

/\/\/

Juliana wanted to kick herself. She wanted to kick herself, then cease to exist. She'd been such a fool. What made it so bad was that it wasn't the first time. Would it be the last?

She looked at her reflection in her bedroom mirror. Had she actually believed that he was going to profess that he had some kind of feelings for her, that he was just going to miraculously change into prince charming?

Tavington barged into the room without knocking, as usual. Juliana's back was to him, but he could see her reflection in the mirror.

"Who is she?" Juliana asked. She didn't look at him in the mirror. She couldn't because she felt so humiliated, humiliated because she'd actually allowed herself to believe that Tavington would ever think of her as anything other than a glorified war trophy.

"Juliana, look at me," Tavington said with an uncharacteristically gentle tone.

Juliana turned slowly to him. "I'm tired, Colonel," she said. "I'd like to retire for the night."

"I know," Tavington said. "However, I feel like an explanation is in order."

"That isn't necessary, Colonel," Juliana said. "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do."

"But I do know what I saw," Juliana said.

"What you saw was not what it appeared to be," Tavington claimed.

"Colonel – please don't … don't make me out to be more of a fool than I already feel like I am," Juliana pleaded. "Please. Can't you spare me at least once? Just this one time?" Juliana turned back to the vanity and began to remove the pins from her hair. "I don't care if you're courtin' her, Colonel. You're probably gonna marry her, too. I don't care about any of that, though. I don't have the strength to care anymore. But can you please just leave me out of this? Can't I just be your servant? Please. Is it so much to ask?" She turned to face him again, but it looked as if nothing she'd said had even registered with him. She turned back to the mirror.

"I have to go see Ms. Staton home," Tavington said. "We are not finished, here. We'll talk about this more when I return."

"I'll be asleep," Juliana retorted defiantly.

"You _will_ be awake, and we _will_ discuss this," Tavington said forcefully.

Juliana didn't argue this time. It was futile. She just let him walk out. Part of her – a large part – hoped that he wouldn't come back.

The door closed behind Tavington as he left. Juliana turned back to the mirror, and something caught her attention in the reflection. Something was moving in the near-darkness behind her. She turned, but before she could say anything, this mysterious person darted out of nowhere and rushed at her. Juliana saw nothing but a flash of red before the intruder grabbed her from behind and slapped his hand over her mouth.

"Be quiet!" the man whispered harshly. "Don't say one word. _One word._ Do you understand me? Just nod."

Juliana did as she was told and nodded. She was still facing the mirror, so she lifted her eyes to see who her assailant was. She couldn't believe who she saw in the reflection behind her. It was Joseph Robinson, the officer she'd met at the market. His dark eyes stared intensely at her through the mirror.

/\/\/

Tavington knew something was amiss the moment he stepped into the house. The place was a wreck, and it wasn't because of the party. He walked into the sitting room and found that it had been completely torn apart. Tables and other furniture had been overturned. The other contents of the room lay broken on the floor.

Tavington moved from room to room, and each one was in a similar state as the sitting room. And there was something else: The house was uncharacteristically quiet. Tavington knew that Juliana had said she was going to sleep, but the rest of the servants, at least, should have been busy cleaning after the party. Tavington knew they hadn't already finished; he hadn't been gone long enough to allow that. Something was wrong.

Tavington cautiously ascended the stairs to the second floor of the house. The first room he intended to inspect was Juliana's bedroom. It was possible that she'd slept through whatever caused the turmoil on the lower floor, but Tavington doubted it. He opened the door, expecting to find it in complete darkness. What he found, however, were the candles still burning brightly, as they had been before he'd left earlier. He looked around the room, at the bed. Juliana wasn't there.

He backed out of the room and immediately proceeded to check the other rooms on the second floor, including his own. Each of them had been torn apart, and he found neither Juliana nor any of the house servants. He returned to the first floor and walked outside. First, he went to the back lawn and found it completely deserted. Then he went to the small stable on the side of the house where he kept his horse. The horse remained, but Tavington was convinced it was the only other living creature on the premises. What had happened to the rest of his household and to the house itself?

The rustling sound coming from the side of the stable caused Tavington to draw his dagger in anticipation of an attack. He was silently relieved when William, one of his servants, came out of the bushes.

"William," Tavington said.

"Yes, sir," the young black man said. "I didn't mean to surprise you like that."

"William, what happened? The house is a mess and everyone's gone. Where are they?" Tavington asked.

"I don't know, Colonel. A group of soldiers gathered 'em up and carried 'em off. I stayed out of the way 'cause I didn't know what they was here for. I didn't see 'em walk in, so reckon they must've been left over from the party. I don't know what they wanted."

"Soldiers?" Tavington questioned.

"Yes, sir. Redcoats."

"British?" That didn't make any sense to Tavington. It was a well-known fact that the house was no longer in rebel hands. "Prepare my horse," Tavington ordered. William nodded and got right to work.

Why would British soldiers ransack the house of another British officer and confiscate his slaves, Tavington wondered. He didn't know the answer, but he was going to find out.

/\/\/

"It is official, Colonel Tavington – no commanding officer in this area authorized any raids in Charles Town within the past week." Cornwallis marched into his office at Fort Carolina. Nearly a week had passed since Tavington's home had been pillaged, and Tavington was no closer to an explanation now then he'd been that night.

"This is rather unfortunate," O'Hara commented.

"It is, isn't it?" Tavington said, his tone insolent. "Wouldn't it be a shame to find out that one of our very own committed such an act in the name of vengeance?" He spoke to O'Hara but kept his eyes focused straight ahead.

O'Hara, on the other hand, glared a hole into the side of Tavington's head as he approached him. "Are you insinuating something, Colonel?" he asked.

"Gentleman, now is not the time for petty squabbles," Cornwallis intervened. "We have are faced with a problem that has the potential to grow into something very serious. We have been infiltrated, and we don't know who the responsible party is. Colonel Tavington, were any letters or papers missing from your home?"

"A few letters of a personal nature, my lord. That was all," Tavington replied. The scoundrels had run off with all his letters from Caroline. What a pity, Tavington thought sarcastically.

Cornwallis looked from Tavington to O'Hara. "Well, gentlemen, it seems that we've come to a dead end. We have no way of knowing who these rabble are, and we have no way of finding them. We should consider ourselves lucky in that they didn't get away with anything more valuable. Colonel, I'll see to it that you receive more servants for your household."

Tavington swallowed. "Thank you, sir," he said. He didn't want more slaves. He wanted Juliana. Cornwallis was correct, however; they were at a dead end. Juliana was long gone, and Tavington felt like a fool for the way he'd treated her. He felt like a fool for trying so ardently to control his emotions. Would it have been so terrible to explore the possibilities with her? He would never know now because there was nothing he could do about any of it.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"You must really take me for a fool, Juliana." Juliana sat on a little stool while Joseph Robinson circled her like a vulture. "You expect me to believe that you, someone who's become so close to Tavington, have absolutely no knowledge about his military plans?"

"I'm just a slave," Juliana said meekly.

Robinson laughed. "Just a slave? We've had this conversation before, remember? In town? That whole innocent 'just a slave' act won't work on me. You and Tavington aren't very good at hiding the true nature of your relationship. You should realize by now that it's obvious to anyone paying attention." Robinson bent down in front of Juliana, looking her dead in the eye. "Tell me about the Dragoons' troop movements," he demanded.

"I don't know anything about what the Colonel does when he's away from the house," Juliana said.

Robinson stood upright and glared down at Juliana skeptically. He nodded slowly. "We'll see how much you know."

/\/\/

One week passed. Then two. Soon a month had passed since the night Tavington had lost Juliana. He was beginning to see the reality of the situation by this point. She was gone, and he wasn't going to get her back. As a result, he'd closed up his house in Charles Town and relocated to officer's quarters at Fort Carolina, taking William with him to be his manservant. He'd almost completely put the situation to rest in his mind … until William approached him one evening with unexpected news.

"Colonel Tavington?" William said, standing in the doorway of Tavington's room.

Tavington didn't turn around at his desk or otherwise take his eyes from his work. "Yes, William, what is it?" he said.

"Sir, I think I know what happened to Juliana and the others," the slave said timidly.

This time, Tavington did turn in his chair and look at his servant.

/\/\/

"William, tell His Lordship exactly what you told me," Tavington instructed.

William sat in a chair surrounded by Tavington, Cornwallis, and O'Hara, all standing, in Cornwallis's Fort Carolina office.

William nodded, ready to oblige. "Yes, sir. When I was in Charles Town today, I overheard these two women – slaves, sir – talkin' about this man named Joseph Robinson. They say he used to walk around in a Redcoat uniform, but they say he wasn't no Redcoat officer. They said he was workin' for the rebel army. And they said he wasn't alone, said there was others who was like him, rebels pretendin' to be Redcoats. When they said he was a negro, I knew they had to be talkin' about one of the same men who sneaked into the party that night."

"How do you know that?" O'Hara questioned.

"Because, sir, one of the men who took Colonel Tavington's slaves away that night was a negro in a Redcoat uniform," William replied.

Tavington turned to Cornwallis. "My lord, I believe that if we find this man Robinson, we can locate the rest of his group," Tavington said optimistically.

"I understand your desire to see justice prevail, Colonel Tavington," Cornwallis began, "however, now that time has provided us some distance from the unfortunate event, I have had the opportunity to reevaluate the situation with a more objective eye. In doing so, I find that I am hesitant to rush into action on this matter."

"My lord?" Tavington couldn't believe his ears. Here they were, being practically handed a group of rebel criminals, and Cornwallis didn't want to act.

"Colonel, let us look at the actual impact that these dissidents have made so far, shall we?" Cornwallis suggested. "We know of one incident, with certainty, for which this group is responsible. We have to weigh whether it would be worth the risk to us merely to break up a group of small-time rabble."

"My lord, with all due respect, this 'small-time rabble' is guilty of impersonating His Majesty's military," Tavington urged. "Yes, their impact has been minimal as of yet; but, sir, this could only be the beginning. We need to hit them hard before they become stronger. If we fail to take them out now, my lord, while we have the chance, they might gain the strength and the confidence to strike again. We might not get the opportunity to stop them again, sir." They couldn't just give up on this so soon. They hadn't even tried.

"Colonel, my mind is made up," Cornwallis said with finality. "I will not risk the lives of valuable fighting men to break up a bunch of petty criminals. The matter is done, and I will entertain no more discussion on it."

Tavington stifled any retort that happened to resting on the tip of his tongue. It was true that he desired action because he wanted Juliana back, yes; but he also wanted to see these criminals, whomever they were, decimated. It annoyed Tavington that Cornwallis was seemingly letting the matter drop.

The matter was not done, Tavington determined. No, this was not done.

/\/\/

It was a chance occurrence, but Tavington was grateful for it. It was one of the rare occasions since the abduction that Tavington actually went into Charles Town; it also happened to be one of the days that the infamous Joseph Robinson made an appearance in town. Tavington had looked up by chance, and there Robinson had been, standing across the street.

The way Tavington saw it, he had two options at his disposal: he could arrest Robinson right there on the street and haul him in for questioning; or he could wait, trail him all day, and see where Robinson would lead him. Robinson could very well lead him to the rest of the imposters that had made off with his property … and with Juliana.

xxx

Tavington had to wait two hours before he moved from his spot across the street from Robinson. That's how long it was before Robinson began to move away from the store he'd been loitering in front of. The sun would be setting in a short period, and Tavington hoped Robinson was on his way home, or wherever he would be staying for the night. He would follow Robinson in the dark if forced to, but he would rather not. He followed Robinson down the street, making sure to keep his distance. Then he followed him when he turned the corner and began to walk up another street.

xxx

By the time the sun was setting, Tavington had taken possession of a steed and followed Robinson some distance out from Charles Town. Robinson had also mounted and was riding a good distance in front of Tavington. They had traveled by horseback for nearly 45 minutes, and Tavington was beginning to wonder whether this Robinson fellow would actually lead him anywhere.

Then there was something. An encampment. A massive encampment crawling with rebels. Hundreds of them. All right under Cornwallis's nose.

Robinson had turned off somewhere, probably to the road leading into the camp, but Tavington was no longer concerned with that one man. He had found a virtual gold mine. He looked down on the encampment from his hidden perch and mused: Juliana was possibly down there right now.

Tavington pulled his horse back from the ledge and galloped back toward Charles Town.

/\/\/

"If I don't come back," Tavington told William, "give this to Captain Bordon." He handed over a letter to the young man. "You don't have to say anything; it's all in the letter." Tavington turned back to his horse.

"Colonel, sir, are you sure you wouldn't want to do this in the mornin'?" William questioned.

Tavington looked at William and then up at the night sky. Daylight had its advantages, but Tavington would need the cover of darkness to do what he had to do.

He gracefully mounted the horse. He didn't know if he was making the right move. Should he make this attempt? Should he risk so much to just to try to rescue her? If so, why? Tavington knew his actions would amount to failure to comply with Cornwallis's wishes. He was about to disobey a direct order. He could lose his career and for what? What was it inside of him that was urging him to do this? What was she to him?

She was the person he found himself in love with, that's who she was. It was high time he admitted that to himself, even if he couldn't admit it to the world. And he couldn't just give her up without a fight.

The slaves Tavington had lost in the raid were quite another story. They were good workers, but he wouldn't be able to recover them. He was alone, and he would be lucky if he made it out alive with Juliana.

Tavington nodded to William before turning and spurring his horse to rapid motion.

/\/\/

When Tavington neared the camp, he shed his red uniform coat and put on a blue, rebel coat. He'd secretly acquired it from a rebel prisoner being held at Fort Carolina two days earlier when he'd decided to embark on this little rescue mission of his. It was just fabric, after all, and it was a decent size. However, it still felt awkward, wrong. He shrugged off the sensation and walked over to the ledge where he'd first observed the rebel encampment. To his right, there was a slightly worn trail, which Tavington surmised led to the camp. He tied his horse to a tree, put on the uniform hat (also from rebel prisoners), and began to follow the trail.

The walk was short, and Tavington reached the camp in about five minutes. He entered inconspicuously and began to mill about casually, blending in with the military personnel there. He kept his hat pulled low, attempting to keep as much of his face and identity as possible covered. The camp was large. It might take him hours, maybe even days, to find Juliana, if she was even there still.

Luck must have been with him because he spotted Juliana almost immediately, about 30 yards away. Even from that distance, he could see that she looked like she'd had a rough time. They'd put her to work, of course, serving water and food to soldiers. Her hair was disheveled and her clothing was dirty and ragged. Juliana herself looked worn down and exhausted.

As Tavington came closer to her, there were other telltale signs that Juliana's experience over the past month had not been pleasant. When he was only a few yards away, he could clearly make out the fresh bruise beneath her right eye. It was a sight that made Tavington's blood boil.

Tavington, his hat still pulled low over his eyes and face strode up to Juliana. "Could I trouble you for a drink of water?" he asked her.

"If you can't already tell, I'm busy here," Juliana said. She didn't even bother to look up at the person talking to her. She seemed too busy to do so. "Is something wrong with you that you can't get it yourself?" Her words came across brusquely. Tavington understood now why she was bruised. If she spoke in that manner to everyone around here on regular basis, Tavington was surprised they hadn't already killed her.

Juliana began to move away to go see to someone else, but Tavington grabbed her arm. This finally prompted her to look up at the man who'd spoken to her. She realized that it was Tavington when he lifted his hat slightly, allowing her to see more of his face.

"Your help would be greatly appreciated," Tavington said forcefully, looking into her dark eyes. "Will you come to my aid?" There was definitely a hidden meaning in his words, and Juliana believed that she knew what it was.

Juliana nodded. "Yes, sir," she said. "I'll see what I can do." Still carrying her water pitcher, she followed Tavington through the camp. They reached the edge of the camp without incident, and Tavington couldn't believe how easy it had all been. No wonder these colonials were losing the war.

When they reached Tavington's horse at the other end of the trail, Tavington looked around at the other officers to make sure he and Juliana had not been followed. It seemed they had cleared the camp with no trouble at all.

Tavington found his horse right where he'd left it. He untied it from the tree and mounted. Then, he pulled Juliana onto the animal so that she sat in front of him, and he wrapped his arms around her to grip the reins. He gently spurred the horse, and they started off at gentle but steady trot through the dark forest.

"It's so dark," Juliana commented. "How do you know where we're goin'?"

"In His Majesty's army, you don't think they actually let us go into battle without basic survival skills, do you?" Tavington asked with a small, arrogant grin.

"I have so many questions," Juliana said, switching topics.

"In good time, my dear," Tavington deflected. "For now, I believe we should concentrate our efforts on returning to Charles Town in safety."

They rode for about a minute with the sound of nothing but the horse's hooves. Then: "Why did you come after me?" Juliana asked. "I'd find it hard to believe if you told me that Cornwallis sent you on a mission just to save me. If that were true, you'd surely have brought someone else with you." She let a few silent moments pass. "So, here we are, you havin' rode in to rescue me. Why?"

Tavington sighed. Nothing could ever be simple with Juliana could it? "How else was I to retrieve my property?" Tavington asked matter-of-factly.

"Seems awful risky for just one piece of property … " Juliana commented skeptically.

"This possession of mine is something I value dearly," Tavington said. "Something very dear to me."

"You can't replace it?" Juliana inquired.

"No, never," Tavington said. "Not even if I tried. But I would never want to."

"I don't know if I can live like this anymore, with all this uncertainty," Juliana said suddenly. "I'd have been better off in that Continental army camp. Stop the horse."

"What?" Tavington asked, confused.

"I said stop the horse. Stop it." Juliana grabbled the reins and pulled on them hard. The horse stopped abruptly, and Juliana slid off. She began to walk away, back in the direction of the camp.

"Juliana – wait!" Tavington hopped off the horse and ran to catch up with her. He caught her by the arm. "Wait."

"Why should I? Why should I go back with you? At least the Continentals treat me like a person."

"Like a person!" Tavington sputtered in disbelief. He indicated her bruised cheek. "They treated you like a slave. In fact, they treated you much worse than one, by the looks of it."

"I _am_ a slave," Juliana proclaimed. "I'm not a war relic. I'm not just some tool for you to use whenever the need – or desire – comes around. And at least the Continentals are consistent. I know what to expect from them, which is more than I can say about you. Most of the time, I'm miserable with you." She pulled her arm free from his grip, and turned back, intending to resume her walk back to the camp.

This was it. If Tavington didn't stop playing games with her and beating around the bush, he was going to lose her. "And I'm miserable without you," he admitted.

Juliana stopped walking. Slowly, she turned to Tavington again. "You don't really mean that," she disputed. "You can't. It goes against everything I know about you."

"Well, then … " Tavington began, walking toward Juliana, " … maybe you don't know as much about me as you thought you did." He stopped directly in front of her, reached up, and touched her face.

Juliana reached up and pulled his hand away from her face, despite the fact that it had felt good there. "You have to understand where I'm comin' from, Colonel," she said. "This isn't the first time that somethin' kinda like this has happened. I-you've-it's happened before, and I let myself believe it then … but then you changed so, and you became so incredibly cruel afterwards. I'm at the point now where I don't know what to think."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Tavington asked. "Isn't that proof enough of my sincerity? Isn't it enough that I … " His voice trailed, and he reconsidered his words. "What is it you want me to do? Tell you how I couldn't get you out of my mind the entire time you were away from me? Profess how I've … fallen, hopelessly, in love with you? Is that it?"

Juliana was prevented from replying by the sound of a horse whinnying nearby. Tavington looked up, past Juliana. Someone on horseback was quickly closing in on them from the direction of the rebel camp. That wasn't necessarily the problem, however. The problem was that this mounted person wasn't alone. Three men on foot accompanied him, but they were still far enough off that Tavington and Juliana should be able to get away.

Tavington took Juliana's hand, intending to get back to the horse, but that soon proved to be an ineffective route. The horse's path, he saw, was blocked by three more men. None of them wore uniforms, but they all carried muskets. Some carried pistols.

Tavington turned back to the mounted man, who was directly upon them, now. "Stop where you are!" the man ordered. "Don't take another step." The steed took a few steps closer to Tavington and Juliana, and Juliana saw that it was Joseph Robinson.

The odds were largely unfavorable toward Juliana and Tavington. They had been in this situation before, but back then, they'd been able to turn to the river for refuge. No such opportunity existed now.

"Colonel Tavington," Robinson said, "I never thought you'd actually be arrogant enough to come here in person."

"You can have me," Tavington offered. "I'll go willingly, just let her go. What's one slave to your army?"

"One could easily ask the same of the British army … or of you," Robinson said. "I'm led to believe that she means something to you since you came for her. The fact that you want her back is reason enough, which means that I now have incredible leverage over you. And for the record, we aren't regulars, in case you haven't noticed. We're militia." Robinson smiled triumphantly. "It looks like you two are our newest prisoners of war."

The militiamen surrounded Tavington and Juliana. Tavington had no earthly idea how to get out of this mess. These men were militia; they wouldn't be able to hold a candle to His Majesty's fighting men in battle … but they had the definite advantage in the here and now. Tavington couldn't run. He couldn't fight. When he was certain that his fate lay in a wartime prison, a shot that seemed to have no source rang out into the night. The thud of a body falling to the ground made everyone turn. They saw one of the militiamen lying at the feet of Tavington's horse. Two more shots and the two other men near the horse fell to the ground, presumably dead. The next shot went through one of the men standing next to Robinson.

The invisible assailants emerged from their hiding places, revealing their identity. They were Dragoons, three in number and all on horseback. One of them was Captain Bordon, but Juliana couldn't make out the other two, who leveled their pistols at the remaining militiamen.

Tavington's pistol was already loaded, so he pulled it from his belt and pointed it squarely at Robinson. "Dismount," Tavington ordered. He was back in his natural element again. He was in control.

Robinson obediently hopped from the horse and joined the other two men from his unit. Tavington followed him with his gun. "Drop your weapons," Tavington ordered. "All of them." He watched as the muskets, pistols, daggers, and swords hit the ground.

Keeping a keen watch on Robinson, Tavington addressed Juliana. "Juliana, go with Bordon."

Juliana didn't want to leave him, but she knew that he would be okay, so she left his side and joined Bordon, who sat at a slight distance on his horse.

"Bordon, take her back to Charles Town," Tavington instructed. "I'll be along shortly."

"Yes, sir," Bordon replied. He reached down to Juliana and pulled her up onto the horse behind him. Once she was settled, he spurred the horse to motion, and they sped away from the scene.

"Juliana is a good woman," Robinson said. "She keeps her mouth shut." Tavington glared at him icily, but Robinson continued. "She wouldn't say a word against you … not even when I resorted to more persuasive methods of interrogation."

"Ahhh, so you're the one who left her with that nasty little bruise," Tavington said, maintaining a disturbingly calm tone of voice.

"It's just one of many, Colonel," Robinson replied. "One of many … "

"I see." Tavington holstered his pistol. The other two Dragoons, still mounted, looked at each other curiously but held their aim at their respective targets.

"What I did, my behavior toward Juliana, was no worse that those acts that you commit everyday, you butcher," Robinson said defiantly.

"My, my – word does get around, doesn't it?" Tavington said with a chuckle. "Am I to take it that you've heard those unflattering rumors as well?"

"I've _seen_ it with my own eyes."

"You have, have you?" With swiftness that surprised everyone present, Tavington unsheathed his sword and thrust into Robinson. It wasn't enough that the weapon had inflicted a mortal wound; Tavington shoved the blade further into Robinson, pushing until the tip of the blade protruded from Robinson's back.

Robinson fell to his knees, still conscious. Tavington maintained a firm grip on the sword's handle. He looked down into the eyes of this man, who's lifeblood was pouring from him. "You said you've seen it," Tavington hissed. "Now you've experienced it firsthand." He jerked the sword out of Robinson and pushed him to the ground. He looked at the other two Dragoons. "Shoot them," he said dismissively as he walked past them to his horse. On the way, he shrugged out of the blue Continental uniform jacket he'd worn as a disguise and threw it to the ground in disgust.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Juliana sat in the parlor nursing the drink that William had brought to her after she and Bordon had returned to the house. They'd arrived about half an hour before and were awaiting Tavington's return.

Bordon sat across from Juliana, a million questions racing through his mind, but the answer to only one of them would clear up many of the questions in his mind. "How did this whole … how did it begin between you and Colonel Tavington?" Bordon asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. "If you don't mind my asking. I don't mean to pry."

"No. I mean, I don't mind tellin' it to you," Juliana said. "I know that you and the Colonel have known each other for a while, and I know that he trusts and respects you." She sighed. "To be honest, I don't really know how all this started." She paused in thought. "I guess I can trace it back to one night in particular. I don't know if he ever told you this, but one of the slaves who used to live here a few months back – Eleanor – well, she had this plan to poison Colonel Tavington. She put rat poison in his food. I knew about it beforehand, and I couldn't let him eat it, so I warned him about it. I guess you could say things changed between us after that. It wasn't really a big change or nothin' like that. Just little things here and there. But all those little things started to add up. He started treatin' me more like a person, rather than just some piece of … property."

Juliana shook her head. "Then we had that party here, and Ms. Staton showed up … now, I don't know what to think. The Colonel does these things that make me think one thing, then he turns around and does somethin' totally different. The whole situation has left me with my head spinnin'."

"I wouldn't worry about Ms. Staton," Bordon offered.

"Why not?"

"Colonel Tavington can hardly stand the sight of her," Bordon revealed. "He thinks she's an imbecile."

"But that night at the party, I saw them together. They seemed pretty happy to me," Juliana recalled.

"She might have been, but he surely was not. He called off the engagement three weeks ago. As I've come to learn, she isn't the one he wants." Bordon looked at her with a new understanding of Tavington's actions. It became a little clearer to him why Tavington would put so much on the line.

A horse neighed outside. Juliana and Bordon both stood and watched the sitting room entrance intently. They heard the front door open, heard boots clicking with every step as they made contact with the floor. And Tavington appeared confidently at the room's entrance.

Tavington's blue eyes moved to Bordon, who understood and promptly left the room, giving his superior and Juliana some much needed privacy. Tavington stepped into the room and slowly approached Juliana. Her eyes fell to the red stains that soiled Tavington's dark vest and the white shirt he wore underneath, and she immediately thought the worst as she quickly bridged the distance between them.

Tavington recognized the panicked expression on her face and was quick to allay her fears. "It isn't mine," he said. "I am uninjured."

Juliana didn't have to ask whose blood it was, then. She had a feeling that she already knew. She couldn't honestly say that she was upset over it.

"I had intended to have them transported to Fort Carolina as prisoners," Tavington began. It was a bold-faced lie, which he hoped Juliana would buy, because he didn't want to give her another reason to doubt him.

He continued. "We were about to tie them to the horses, but they rushed at us. They didn't have their weapons, but there was a struggle, nonetheless. I had to use my sword on Robinson. He gave me no choice; none of them did. I wish there had been another way."

This is it, Tavington thought. It was the perfect time to pick up where they'd left off before Robinson and his rabble had interrupted.

"You just did what you had to do," Juliana said softly before immediately asking herself why she was being so accommodating. She wouldn't put it past Tavington to have killed Robinson and those other men in cold blood while they'd been completely defenseless. Had they deserved it? Had they earned it because they were colonial rebels? Juliana didn't know exactly how Robinson had met his fate; but she realized that she didn't want to know.

"That's right," Tavington said. "I merely did what I had to do." He reached up to touch her … but fate, once again, intervened.

"What you did was go against my express wishes."

Tavington would know the sound and the tone of that voice without even turning around to see, but he did, and he was not surprised. "My lord," Tavington said.

Cornwallis stepped into the room. He didn't attempt to hide his rage, as it was plainly evident by his expression.

Juliana stepped from behind Tavington. On the way to the door, Cornwallis's eyes found hers and locked with them until she'd left the room.

He trained his glare on Tavington. "Colonel Tavington, you're a good officer," he began with a measure of calmness, though his patience was thin. "You are an officer of the highest caliber – when you follow orders." He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from completely losing his temper, then continued. "What on Earth possessed you to infiltrate that camp when I explicitly explained why we would not expend our efforts on the matter?"

"My lord, I accept full responsibility for my actions this evening and for the actions of my men," Tavington said. "I ordered them to assist me. This was my doing."

"Pardon my interrupting, my lord, however, what Colonel Tavington claims is not the truth."

Cornwallis and Tavington turned to see Bordon re-enter the room.

"Bordon, this is a matter between His Lordship and myself," Tavington said hurriedly. "It does not concern you, and we require privacy."

"My lord," Bordon began again, ignoring Tavington, "Colonel Tavington did not order the other Dragoons to aid him. The truth of it was that we didn't even know what he was planning, sir. A servant delivered a letter to me written by Colonel Tavington. It was only then that I decided to take action, and it was I who ordered the other Dragoons come to Colonel Tavington's aid. I must take responsibility for my actions and the actions of those officers, who were following my orders."

Bordon looked at Tavington. Bordon knew that Tavington was trying to save him from suffering Cornwallis's wrath, but Bordon couldn't let him do it.

Cornwallis, angered and disappointed, looked at his two officers. He was appalled that two of his best would so brazenly disobey his orders. "This girl of yours must be very special for you to risk so much, Colonel Tavington," Cornwallis said. "Was she worth it?"

Tavington opened his mouth, about to attempt an explanation, but Cornwallis continued his diatribe. "You are throwing away your career, Tavington! Everything you've worked for," Cornwallis said, his anger finally exploding. "I don't understand your behavior, Colonel. Surely, there are other ways for you to satisfy your desires, ways that don't require you to disobey your commanding officer's explicit orders."

"My lord – " Tavington began, but Cornwallis interrupted him.

"I don't want to hear it, Colonel. You're a good officer, and your services are highly valued; however, I have no use for officers who fail to follow my orders simply because they wish to pursue personal endeavors."

Tavington felt his stomach drop to his feet. He prepared himself for what he was certain to come next. This was it, the end of her career. Had it really been worth it?

Cornwallis proceeded. "Colonel William Tavington – I hereby relieve you of duty for a period not to exceed one month. Until such time has passed, you will not participate as an active member of the Green Dragoons or the British military. During this time, you will not wear the uniform of His Majesty's army, nor will you receive any pay for military service. And because you have a residence in Charles Town, you will not set foot on any premises in or surrounding any British forts. Have I made myself clear?"

Tavington blinked. "Perfectly, my lord," he said. He was completely shocked that he hadn't been immediately placed under arrest for court-martial.

"You should consider this a very lenient punishment, Colonel, as it is well within my rights to have you ejected permanently for your offenses," Cornwallis went on. "And you will be if you fail to meet the conditions of your punishment. Your services on the field may be valuable to my operations, Colonel, however that does not give you free reign to do as you to do as you please. You follow my orders; I will not tolerate disobedient officers. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't want to see you or hear of you until May," Cornwallis said.

"Yes, my lord."

Cornwallis turned to Bordon. "Captain Bordon, I'm temporarily placing you in command of the Dragoons. You, too, disobeyed my orders; however your behavior stemmed from the actions of Colonel Tavington. Regardless, I believe that you're best capable of keeping things in order during his absence."

Bordon nodded. "Yes, my lord. As you wish."

"I'll see you back at the fort," Cornwallis told Bordon.

"Yes, my lord," Bordon replied.

Cornwallis glared at Tavington one last time before leaving. Bordon turned to Tavington.

"Bordon – " Tavington began.

"I know," Bordon said. "I know what you were trying to do, and I appreciate the gesture. But you should know by now, Colonel, that if I'm going to risk my life to see to your safety, I'll risk my career for it as well, fully aware of the consequences."

"Thank you … James," Tavington said, opting to use the man's given name. "Take care of things for me while I'm gone."

"Of course," Bordon agreed. There weren't many men that he would so willfully risk life, limb, and career for, and Tavington was most assuredly one of them.

Tavington took in a breath. He was lucky to have someone like Bordon on his side. "Until May, then."

Bordon gave a small smile. "Until then."

From her vantage point at the top of the stairs, Juliana watched Bordon leave the house through the front door. She looked to the sitting room doorway in time to see Tavington emerge.

What was he thinking, Juliana wondered. What would he do next? What would he say? If he followed his usual pattern, which is what Juliana expected, Tavington's mood toward her would completely change, and he would proceed to push her back out to arm's length. She watched him climb the stairs, and she braced herself, emotionally, for whatever she might be confronted with.

When Tavington reached the halfway point, he began to take the steps two at a time until he reached the top. He pulled her close and kissed her fiercely. He looked at her, his eyes intense.

"No more games," he said. "No more distractions. No more silly excuses. This is ridiculous. We can't dance around each other forever, you know. I love you, Juliana. And all I need to know is if you love me. Do you?"

After only a moment of reflective thought, Juliana nodded and said, "Yes."

"Good," Tavington said. "Then that's settled."

"I can't tell you how sorry I am about what's happened," Juliana said. "You're in trouble, and it's all because of me. You wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't come for me."

"How could I not come after you? I don't think I could have forgiven myself if I didn't at least try."

"But now you can't go back until May," Juliana reminded him.

"It isn't as bad as it all sounds," Tavington insisted. "All it means is that when I do go back, Cornwallis will be falling over himself, grateful for my return. Not that Bordon can't handle things on his own; he can, and quite competently, I believe. But he just doesn't have that … flair for getting the job done." He smirked. "I'll be surprised if Cornwallis doesn't show up on my doorstep begging me to come back before the month is even up. But that isn't even the best part of it all."

"What is?" Juliana asked.

The smirk on Tavington's face transformed from something pretentious to something thoughtful. "I get to spend time with you."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"You've shown remarkable improvement, but there are still a few key elements I believe we should give a little more attention to," Tavington said. He, sword in hand, stood before Juliana, who also wielded a sword. He continued. "As I've told you before, my goal is that you're able to adequately defend yourself in the event of an attack. I want to be absolutely sure you have a fighting chance, at least."

"I understand, believe me," Juliana said. "I do believe we're workin' toward the same thing."

Tavington smiled. "We'll see. Defend yourself."

Juliana raised her sword. She lunged at Tavington first, having learned her first lesson well. When they'd first begun their lessons together, Tavington had instructed her that in combat, it was not enough to merely anticipate an attack. A good soldier captured the upper hand early on by forcefully attacking first.

The simulated sword fight commenced, with Juliana holding her own against the experienced officer. Everything was well until Tavington reached a point where he was able to knock Juliana's sword from her grip.

Tavington stood back, analyzing. "Do you know what you did wrong?" he asked Juliana. Before she could answer, he answered for her. "You got too confident, too comfortable, and dropped your guard. If this had been a real attack, you'd be dead now."

Juliana let the prospect sink in. Tavington was right to remind her of the possibility of death, even if it wasn't pleasant. He stepped up to her. "I'm only doing this so that I can have some hope that you'll be alright while I'm away. Peace of mind is what I need."

"I'll be okay, Will," Juliana insisted. "You know I will. I'm not one of these fragile socialites. You remember who you're talkin' to."

"Of course," Tavington said. "How could I forget?" He bent down and kissed her.

"I don't see how that's supposed to help me fend off colonials," Juliana said.

"It isn't," Tavington said. "It certainly isn't supposed to help you fend me off."

"Now, why in the world would I want to do that?" she asked innocently. She kissed him, wrapping her free arm around his waist. His free arm, in turn, encircled her as he kissed her back. He gently pulled away from her.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he revealed.

Juliana was taken aback. "Tomorrow? I thought there was one more week?"

"There was originally," Tavington said. "I received a dispatch a few days ago, however. It seems I was correct in my initial assumptions; Cornwallis wants me back early. As soon as possible, according to the letter."

Juliana was stunned into complete silence. Now that she had spent so much uninterrupted time with him, she didn't much welcome the prospect of being without him.

/\/\/

Juliana stood outside and watched while Tavington made final travel preparations to his horse. When he was done, he walked over to Juliana, and they both knew it was time.

"I know you don't have anyway of knowin' when you'll be back," Juliana said, "so I won't even ask."

"It could be very soon if the war keeps its current pace," Tavington pointed out.

Juliana nodded. "I hope so."

"As do I," Tavington said.

"You'd better get goin'," Juliana said. "You don't want to keep Cornwallis waitin' on you."

Tavington stroked Juliana's face and tried to take in every detail. He wanted to remember her exactly as she was at this moment. Then he kissed her goodbye and quickly turned away from her. He walked back over to his horse, pulled on his helmet, and mounted. He looked at Juliana one last time before turning and riding away from her.

/\/\/

a/n: After such a long break without an update, I know it's short and that there's not really much to it, but I promise that there's more to come … and it will be better!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

The Continentals were storming the city of Charles Town in an attempt to retake it. The British had known for some time that rebel army would try to reclaim the city, but they'd been unaware of when that attempt might occur. The British army were prepared, however. The colonials' success was uncertain, for the British were dutifully holding their own against the rebels.

One month had passed since Tavington had left for Fort Carolina, and he still had not returned to Charles Town. Juliana wasn't distressed about it. It had come as no surprise to her that Tavington was still away; she'd expected it. And she didn't expect him to show up anytime soon, but she really wished he would make a miraculous appearance about now.

Juliana knew that the Continentals would be rounding up the slaves and taking possession of them and that she and William didn't stand a chance. She'd already fallen into their hands once before; now that she and Tavington had settled their issues, the prospect of spending time with the rebels wasn't appealing to her at all. She had some fighting skills, courtesy of Tavington, but they would only be good against one adversary, maybe two, if she were lucky. She and William would not be able to hold their own against a whole group of attackers. They would have to try to escape somehow.

Juliana went to the front door, where William was already standing guard with a rifle. The Continental army was just down the street, and both William and Juliana could hear the sounds of gunshots. In the darkness of the night, they could see the sparks fly out of the guns as they were fired. "We're gonna have to leave," Juliana told William. "We're not gonna be able to hold off all those soldiers if they decide to come this way."

William considered her words. "Where do we go?" he asked.

"I don't know," Juliana admitted. "We should try to find a British camp or a fort or … anybody. Anybody else but the Continentals. We just have to get away from here." It was dark out, and Juliana was thankful for that. They would probably stand a much better chance of escaping unnoticed than if it were daylight.

William nodded. "I'll get the horse ready," he said. He left to go prepare the horse, while Juliana took up watchful post at the door. She had a loaded pistol in one hand and sword in the other to ward off attackers. At the first sight of a Continental soldier, Juliana would be prepared to fire. She didn't think she would have to use the weapons at first. It seemed as if the ruckus would pass them over.

Then, a couple of soldiers began to make their way up the path to the house. Juliana's heart rate quickened as she discretely cocked the gun.

"You there," one of the soldiers called out, "who lives here?"

Juliana remained silent, which appeared to anger the rebel soldiers, judging from their facial expressions.

"Hey, _girl_, I'm talkin' to you," the same soldier said as he advanced. Juliana slowly brought the pistol up and pointed it at both of the men. She didn't aim specifically at either one, but she would shoot the first one who made an aggressive move.

The sight of the pistol temporarily stayed the soldiers, but they only looked at each other and smiled. That certainly wasn't the reaction that Juliana had been expecting, and it unsettled her.

The men looked at Juliana again and resumed their approach. "And just what are you gonna do with that?" the second soldier asked, mockingly.

Juliana's heart was beating in her ears, but she forced herself to venture out onto the porch and hold the pistol steady. "If you come any closer, you'll find out," she replied. She slid the gun over to the soldier who'd spoken. The soldier chuckled but didn't stop walking, and he brazenly stepped up onto the first porch step. Juliana didn't offer any warning before she pulled the trigger. The bullet shot from the barrel of the gun and hit the man squarely in the chest, knocking him backwards to the ground.

Both Juliana and the remaining soldier looked at each other in stunned silence for a brief moment. Then, before the officer had the chance to draw his own weapon, Juliana attacked with her sword, rushing off the porch and lunging at the man. She caught him quickly in the shoulder, causing him to yelp in pain. He pulled his sword and began to fight back, matching her strokes. But he was on the defensive, and he was already injured, which put him in a much worse position than she. He thought he might have a chance to best her until the last moment, when she thrust the sword through his gullet, sending him crumpling to the ground, the weapon still lodged firmly inside his torso.

William returned to the front door, where he found Juliana, frozen and standing over the two dead soldiers. He grabbed her hand, knowing that if anyone found them with the dead men, it would spell certain trouble for the two slaves.

"Come on," he said. "The horse is ready. We gotta go."

Morning finally made its appearance after Juliana and William had spent an exhausting night on horseback. William had managed to remain alert through the night to steer the horse and to keep a sharp lookout for colonials; Juliana, on the other hand, had been unable to keep sleep from closing in on her. She'd given in and fallen asleep at some point with her head against William's back.

William woke her up with a gentle nudge, and she stirred, not knowing where she was. She didn't really care at the moment, as long as they weren't anywhere near the Continentals. But she asked, just the same. "Do you know where we are?"

William shook his head. "I don't," he replied. "But I think we better follow them."

Juliana followed his gaze. A few yards ahead of them, a unit of British officers were turning onto a road. Juliana and William looked at each other, knowing now that at least they had a chance of being saved. William gently spurred the horse to a slow trot, following the soldiers' path. Somehow, they managed to remain largely unnoticed. Juliana suspected that soldiers must be concerned with bigger issues than two stray slaves.

Juliana and William discreetly followed the group up the path, which led to a large farm. There was already a mass of British soldiers gathered around the house. Juliana and William moved from the path and tried to keep a little distance between themselves and everyone else, at least until they had a better grasp of what the situation was. William steered the horse behind a large tree, which largely obscured them from view.

Before either of them had the chance to survey more of the scene from their distant perch, they heard the familiar thundering sound of pounding horse hooves. Everyone else on the farm heard it, too, Juliana realized, because they all looked in the same direction that she did. Coming up the same path which Juliana and William had just traveled were a hoard of men on horseback. Men in red, dark-trimmed coats on horseback. Could it be? Could Juliana and William really be that fortunate?

The cavalry unit quickly approached, and Juliana could clearly make out Tavington's form on the lead horse. She knew it couldn't be anyone else. No one else she knew was arrogant enough to ride a horse at nearly full-gallop so effortlessly, with one hand resting confidently on his hip. Juliana had come to regard the mount as a Tavington trademark, and the sight of it made her want to jump off her horse and run over to him. William must have been aware of what her reaction would be because he grabbed her arm and held it tight. Juliana looked at him and then at Tavington again. They both watched the Dragoons ride past. When they stopped, Tavington continued until his horse was only a few feet away from the porch steps. Juliana could not hear what was being said, so she contented herself with watching the scene that played out before her.

It was obvious by the deference immediately given to Tavington that he was in charge. For the first few minutes, nothing much seemed to happen. Tavington exchanged seemingly calm words with some of the officers.

Then, his voice suddenly cut loudly into the morning. "Who carried this!" Juliana heard Tavington loudly demand. She saw a young, blonde rebel soldier stepped forward. Not surprisingly, British officers surrounded the young man and bound his hands.

What didn't sit well with Juliana was the civilian, probably the head of the household, who stepped forward toward Tavington. When the two spoke to one another, nothing looked out of the ordinary … until Juliana saw Tavington pull out his gun and point it at the man's head. Then, she watched in horror as he turned the barrel of the gun on the group of children huddled together on the porch. The civilian ran back to his family, and Tavington withdrew the gun, to Juliana's relief. That relief was short-lived.

There was a abrupt commotion in front of the house. One of the family's sons, Juliana assumed, ran at the soldiers who were holding the bound rebel soldier. Juliana watched in mortified disbelief as Tavington immediately took aim at the boy and fired. The bullet hit the boy in the back and tore out of his chest. He dropped to his knees, the life quickly draining from his body.

Juliana felt like she was going to be physically ill. Tavington – Will, the man she had allowed herself to get close to, the man she had trusted, the man she had fallen in love with … he'd just shot a boy in the back, killed him in cold blood. Tears sprung to her eyes. She slid off the horse, intending to get sick behind the tree, but a British soldier grabbed her roughly by the arm.

"What are you doing over here?" he demanded brusquely. He looked up at William, still mounted. "Get off of that horse." William obediently dismounted.

The soldier turned his attention back to Juliana. "What do you think you're doing over here?" he demanded a second time. "Did you think you could hide from us? Is that it?"

Juliana couldn't force any words from her mouth. She looked to William because she didn't know what to say.

Still gripping her arm tightly, the soldier grabbed a handful of Juliana's hair and violently pulled her away from the tree. He pushed her toward a lieutenant standing nearby. "Sir, I found this one near the tree with that other slave over there," he reported, pointing to William, who remained near the horse.

The lieutenant took one look at Juliana and immediately recognized her. He'd seen her with Tavington before at Middleton Place. He didn't know how she'd ended up here. That wasn't even important. If Tavington saw this brute manhandling his property, he would be furious.

Juliana squirmed. It was only a small movement, but the pain in her scalp was becoming unbearable. She couldn't help but move and hope that it would force the soldier to ease his hold on her hair.

Instead, the soldier yanked her by the hair again, causing her to cry out in pain. "Quiet!" the soldier ordered.

"What's going on over there?" Tavington demanded. He turned his horse and guided it over to where this new commotion had arisen. What he saw nearly made him lose his composure. "Let her go," Tavington said with forced calm.

The soldier, confused, looked at Tavington. "Sir?"

"Was there something unclear about the order, Private?" Tavington asked, fighting the urge to clench his teeth.

"N-no, Colonel," the soldier stammered. He let go of Juliana by forcefully pushing her to the ground.

Tavington was ready to dismount and pound the soldier to a pulp, but he decided against it, for appearance's sake. He was silently grateful for the lieutenant, who walked over and helped Juliana to her feet.

"Ready!" an officer called out. "Take aim!" Juliana turned in time to see a small group of soldiers taking aim. For the first time, she noticed that there were rebel wounded lying on the ground in front of the house. The British were aiming at them. Juliana looked at the porch. She couldn't see the men who were lying down, but she saw another group of British soldiers aiming. "Fire!"

Juliana saw the soldiers fire on defenseless, wounded men. And it was all on Tavington's order, she realized. She glared at him through tear-filled eyes.

"Are you alright?" the lieutenant asked Juliana.

"I'm fine," she said, her eyes still on Tavington. His eyes met hers, briefly, but they revealed nothing to her. She turned and made her way back through the crowd to William and their horse.

Juliana paced inside Tavington's personal quarters at Fort Carolina. She didn't have any idea what she should say, what she should do. The reason she didn't know what to do was because she didn't know how she felt. How could she love such a man? She had to be truthful with herself -- his behavior wasn't a complete surprise. She had known what he was capable of the first night she'd met him. But she'd had the gall to think that he'd changed and that she had been the one to miraculously change him. He hadn't changed. He hadn't changed one bit.

The door swung open and Tavington walked in. "I heard about the attack on Charles Town," he said. "I thought for sure that the Dragoons would be sent into the city. I was worried sick about you." He walked over to her. When he touched her, she backed immediately backed away. "Come now," Tavington began knowingly. "Don't tell me you're still thinking about what happened this morning."

"Of course I'm still thinkin' about it," Juliana said.

"I took the actions that were required of me," Tavington insisted.

"That is not what happened this mornin'," Juliana fumed. "This mornin', you shot a little boy in cold blood, outside his home."

"He was hardly a little boy," Tavington argued tritely. "He was at least 13. He was probably older."

"That is completely beside the point," Juliana countered. "What threat was he? What threat was he to you or your men? He was scared. What would you expect?"

"I would expect him to obey and respect orders from His Majesty's military officers," Tavington replied. Juliana, frustrated and angry, turned away from him, but he caught her by the arm and drew her to him.

She tried to wiggle free but didn't put much effort into it. "Please let go of me, Will. Colonel."

Tavington wasn't going to be able to smooth this over so easily, he realized. He released his hold on her. "I must say, my dear, that I am at somewhat of a loss," he said. "I'm the same person I was one month ago, two months ago. Will Tavington – I'm no different."

"I know," Juliana said. "And that scares me. You're the same as you've always been, and I just didn't see it. Before, I never allowed myself see the person in you who would point a gun at children. If I had, I assure you, I would not be here. At least not willingly."

"Perhaps I didn't handle this morning in the best way," Tavington considered. "But Juliana, I'm gong to explain something to you. War isn't neat or fair. Things happen that we can't explain, predict, or prevent. Civilians do fall victim to the perils of war. It's a nasty business. When you're an officer in the military, you have a duty. You get your orders, and you follow them."

Juliana nodded, although it was not necessarily in agreement with all he'd said. She nodded because it was time that she relayed some information to him. "Perhaps you would feel differently if you had a child of your own," she proposed.

"Perhaps," Tavington conceded. "But that is not a scenario with which I have been placed."

Juliana swallowed and took a calming breath before speaking again. "Don't be too sure of yourself about that," she warned.

Tavington regarded her with utter confusion, and Juliana was quick to elaborate. "I think," she began, "I think I'm gonna have a child."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The Continental attack on Charles Town had been a valiant effort, but it was, nevertheless, unsuccessful. The British had been able to hold on to the city.

Then Juliana had told him that she was going to have a child, and he'd been rendered momentarily speechless. A child? _His child? _

Tavington hadn't questioned the paternity of the child when Juliana had told him. He didn't have any reason to believe that the child wasn't his. Juliana wasn't the type of person who would betray his trust, especially in that manner.

Now, nearly six months had passed.

Juliana, now eight months along, stood behind Tavington, studying his appearance in the dressing mirror. They had returned to Charles Town three weeks ago. The rebels had turned the house inside out looking for valuables and probably the party who'd been responsible for the deaths of the two soldiers that Juliana had killed.

Juliana stepped around in front of Tavington and adjusted the collar of his dress uniform. He was headed to Middleton Place that night to attend one of Cornwallis's parties.

"Is it crooked?" Tavington asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he attempted to look at himself in the mirror.

Juliana smoothed the collar back down. "Not anymore," she answered.

Tavington fully turned to the mirror again, studied himself for a moment, and promptly slumped. "I hate going to these things," he said. "It's a waste of energy and resources during wartime, not to mention time. The only thing that made them even mildly bearable was you."

"Well, I can't go with you like this," Juliana said, indicating to her pregnant mid-section.

"I know," Tavington said, turning back to her. He sighed. "I just wish I didn't have to go at all. These socialites are absolutely ruthless. I'd rather go into battle."

"It'll all be over with before you know it," Juliana said.

"That isn't soon enough," Tavington spat. "I'll be glad when this blasted war is over and done with."

Most of Juliana agreed with Tavington's sentiment, but there was a part of her that didn't, as inconceivable as that was. She didn't want the war to be over because it would bring so many unknowns. She walked away from the mirror and sat down on the bed.

Tavington immediately picked up on the sudden change in Juliana's demeanor. "What's the matter?" he asked. He joined her, taking up the spot beside her. "Is it the baby? "

"No," Juliana answered quickly. Then she reconsidered. "Well … yes it is, I suppose."

Tavington sprung to his feet. "I'll go fetch the doctor."

Juliana grabbed his hand. "No, Will, it isn't time for that," she said.

"But—"

"What I mean is, what's gonna happen to us after the war is finally over?" Juliana asked straightforwardly.

Tavington sat back down on the bed. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked. "The war ending will be the best thing that could ever happen to us. Why, we'll settle down somewhere. I don't know exactly where, yet, but land is certainly not scarce around here. I'm highly confident that we'll find somewhere suitable. Who knows? I might very well be appointed to a public office, if my successful record in this war is anything to go on. After the war, we can be rid of this nasty business and we can truly begin our life together."

Juliet immediately noted how optimistic Tavington sounded, but Juliet was less hopeful. "Yes," Juliana said. "You as the master and us as your slaves." She placed her hand on her swollen belly for emphasis.

"No," Tavington contradicted. "You know that isn't how it will be. Is it like that now?"

"No, of course not," Juliana said. "At least not in private. But I think you know what I'm talkin' about, Will."

"Juliana, we have been over this time and again," Tavington began. "I do not have the luxury of placing our relationship on display for all the world to see. I am bound by strict social protocol. You know that."

"Yes, I do," Juliana said, irked. She didn't particularly appreciate that Tavington was speaking to her as if she were a child. "Don't tell me about 'social protocol'. I know all about it. It's the story of my life. Or haven't you forgotten who my grandfather was and how I lived there. What I have a problem with is you acting like society will suddenly change after the war ends. Do you really believe that?" Juliana asked skeptically.

"Yes." Tavington's answer was swift and honest. "After this war is over, I will have status, and status is power," he explained. "And once I have that, I will truly be free. And so will you." Juliana looked away from him, disbelieving and frustrated. Tavington reached up, gently grasped her chin, and made her look at him again. "I know it's impossible to see right now, but things will be so much better for us once this war is over. I'm going to have the kind of family that I never had; I'm going to have the type of family I have always wanted; I'm going to have it with you, Juliana."

"I don't see how that'll be possible," Juliana said.

Tavington nodded. "I know; but it will be, I promise you. I will make it possible. You just have to trust me."

xxx

The evening was still very young, yet Tavington was already prepared to throw himself onto his own sword. As soon as he'd arrived, Cornwallis had summoned him to his private quarters. Once there, Tavington had stood by and listened to the general berate him for their inability to make any significant progress in the fight against the rebels.

Now, even as Tavington stood on Middleton's sprawling lawn, Cornwallis's words still rung in his ears, and they still stung like the dickens. _"Fine soldier you are, bested by a bedtime story."_ Cornwallis's exact words.

And as if what had happened with Cornwallis weren't enough, Tavington now found himself trapped in a meaningless conversation with two young Colonial women.

"Tell me, Colonel," one of the women began, "Don't you usually have a slave girl that accompanies you to these social occasions?" The woman's name was Alaina, and her voice contained a twang typical of American southerners.

"You mean Juliana," Tavington said with a nod. "Yes, she usually joins me; however, in her present condition, I thought it best if she remained at the house this evening."

The second woman, Victoria, chuckled and turned to Alaina. "What the good colonel means is that he's about to gain another slave, as the girl is with child."

"Oh! What good fortune you've stumbled upon, then," Alaina said. "It's always good when they're fertile. A person can start off with two and have enough to work a farm in a matter of years. A good pair of slaves is a mighty fine investment, that's what I say."

"It isn't even the case that a person always needs to begin with a pair." O'Hara casually strolled over to join their little group. "Is it, Colonel Tavington?" O'Hara asked, suggestively.

Tavington merely glared at O'Hara, but the other man didn't seem affected by it. O'Hara continued, turning to the ladies. "Colonel Tavington knows this from first-hand experience, or so I hear. The word spreading through the ranks is that our dear Colonel Tavington is the father of his slave's child." The pronouncement appeared to render the female companions speechless, meaning that O'Hara had at least partially satisfied his agenda. He smiled innocently. "Of course that's just a nasty little rumor," he added. He turned his gaze on Tavington. "Though it's spreading like wildfire."

Tavington took a measured sip of his champagne. This night couldn't possibly get any worse – could it?

As if on cue, a military supply ship visible in Charles Town harbor burst into flames. Tavington drained his glass and threw it to the ground. It consequently shattered into about a million shards. The night had just gotten worse.

xxx

Juliana gazed out the bedroom window at the quiet night. She wanted desperately to believe Tavington when he said that things would be different for better after the war was over. But it was all just so difficult to fathom. It seemed so impossible. After a year with Will Tavington, however, Juliana should know that the man rarely settled. If there was something that he wanted, he went after it until it was his.

Juliana turned away from the window, and it was then that the first pain hit. It was unlike any pain that she'd ever experienced. She'd never been pregnant before, so she did not know if it was a normal pain. What she did know was that it hurt. The pain shot through her abdomen like a bolt of lightning.

William had, fortunately, not accompanied Tavington to Middleton Place, but Juliana did not know where in the house he was at this moment. She hoped that he was on the upper floor because she was uncertain whether she would make it down the stairs to the first floor before another pain hit her. She called out for him, praying that he would hear her and come to her.

Within a few moments, William appeared in the bedroom doorway. He found Juliana sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. "Sweet Lord," he said, and quickly moved to her side. He helped her into the bed.

"I think I'm havin' the baby," Juliana said. She grimaced as another wave of pain came on. "You have to go get some help." What Juliana wouldn't have given to have Eugenia or even Eleanor around for this moment. Well, maybe not Eleanor. Looking back, there would be no way to ensure that Eleanor wouldn't have tried to find some way to kill the child.

William nodded. He didn't want to leave her alone, but he had no choice. Of all the nights, Juliana had to have the baby on a night where the house was completely empty except for them – and on a night when nearly every person in Charles Town was out at Middleton Place for the ball.

He practically leapt down the stairs and sprinted through the front door to the four Dragoons standing guard on the porch. "Juliana needs a doctor," William exhaled excitedly. "She's havin' the baby. She needs a doctor."

The officers all looked at one another, initially unsure of what to do. Their military training had failed to prepare them for a moment such as this. But Tavington had left explicit instructions on what to do if this kind of emergency were to arise. The senior officer of the group, a man by the name of Hobson, stepped into action. "Go up and see to her," he commanded one of the soldiers. The soldier nodded and quickly entered the house.

Hobson turned to the remaining soldiers. "Gedrick, search the town for a doctor; Foster, you stand guard here," he instructed, already mounting his horse. "If you can't find a doctor, a mid-wife will do. I'm riding out to Middleton Place to fetch Colonel Tavington. You have your orders." And he was off.

xxx

The strong stench of burning wood that greeted Hobson as he rode up to the front of Middleton Place was the first indicator that something was wrong. Hobson found the second indicator when he stepped on to the back lawn. There was a heightened sense of excitement that was out of place at what was usually a calm gathering. As Hobson began to move through the crowd, he noticed that most of the guests were looking at the harbor. He quickly realized why when he, himself, looked out to where they looked. A ship, what was left of it, was smoldering on the water.

Hobson quickly located a cavalry officer from his unit and strode over to him. "Where is Colonel Tavington?" Hobson asked.

"He's gone," the soldiers replied. "He left with the Dragoons. Went searching for the blasted rebels. They blew up our supply ship in the harbor."

"Damn," Hobson cursed. "Did you see what direction they set out for?"

"They split up," the soldier said. "But Tavington and his group of men went back towards Charles Town."

xxx

Back in Charles Town, Tavington's men had already arrived. "Search the shops, the houses – anywhere that might provide a hiding place," Tavington instructed. The men formed into groups of two or three and scattered, proceeding to search the buildings.

Damn the rebels, Tavington thought bitterly. If it hadn't been for them, he would more than likely be returning home from the party by now.

Home … Tavington turned to the two men who had remained at his side. "Tell the others to meet me at my house," he said.

"Yes, sir," came the reply from both.

Tavington barely heard the reply, as he was off the moment after he gave the order. If those rebels were hiding somewhere in this town, Juliana could possibly be in danger. They knew where he lived, and they had taken her before. He would make certain that they would not this time.

The first sign of trouble when Tavington arrived at the house was that there was only one guard on the porch. Tavington had left four on duty.

He rode up to the porch and promptly dismounted. "Where are the others?" he demanded, marching up the porch steps. "I specifically ordered that the four of you were to remain on watch at all times until I returned."

Before the officer could reply, a loud cry emanated from the house. Tavington brushed past the officer into the house and sprinted up the stairs. He met one of the guard duty officers at the door to his bedroom. Timidly removing his helmet and handing it off to the guard, he stepped into the bedroom.

Juliana lay on the bed, William by her side holding her hand. She looked up just as Tavington was entering the room.

"Will," she said, grateful that he'd arrived. William stood as Tavington approached.

"She started having pains about an hour ago, sir," William reported. "One of the soldiers out front went to go fetch a doctor."

Tavington heard it, but he said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on Juliana, and he walked right past William on his way to her. He knelt by the bed and grasped her hand.

"Will," Juliana said. "You made it."

"Juliana … " Tavington's voice trailed with concern. Another pain wracked Juliana's body, but it wasn't severe enough to make her cry out. "Where's that damned doctor?" Tavington demanded.

"Right here."

Everyone turned to the door. Gedrick, the soldier who'd gone out to search for the doctor had returned, and he wasn't alone. The man that Gedrick had returned with marched into the room, immediately ready to get to work. "When did the pains begin?" he asked.

"About an hour ago, sir," William replied.

Tavington stood upright, his brows knitted in suspicion. "Who the devil are you?" he asked.

"Dr. Samuel Ross," the man said. "I'm one of three doctors in Charles Town." He walked over to the side of the bed and smiled down at Juliana. "We're going to take good care of you, my dear. You have nothing to worry about." He walked to the foot of the bed and began to set up shop.

Juliana looked up at Tavington again. "I'm so glad you're here."

Tavington knelt by the bedside again. "I'm afraid I can't stay, my dear," he told her. "I wasn't even aware of your condition. His lordship has sent me and my men out on a hunt for some damned rebels. I must go and attend to the matter." Torn, Tavington actually seriously considered remaining with Juliana. Of course he wanted to be present for the birth of his very own child, but if he remained, and Cornwallis found out, he would be finished, and so would Juliana and their child. Damn the bloody rebels, Tavington thought. Damn them for creating this impossible predicament.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he vowed. Sometimes it took hours for babies to be born, Tavington reminded himself. He hoped that this would be so for Juliana.

He stood and beckoned Ross to join him outside in the hallway. As they exited the room, a young slave woman entered with cloths and a water basin. "Everything should go smoothly," Ross began to assure Tavington. "She looks as if she's progressing normally, so far, and I'm not expecting any problems to arise."

"They had better well not," Tavington said menacingly. "You'd better damn well know what you're doing. If anything happens to her, I will make sure you regret the first day you ever dreamed of becoming a doctor. Is that understood?"

Ross blanched. "Yes, Colonel."

"Very well, then," Tavington said. He couldn't say that he was completely comfortable, leaving Juliana in this man's care. Tavington had no idea who the man was, after all. He knew nothing of his credentials or qualifications. But at the moment, this Ross fellow was all they had. He would have to do.

Tavington retrieved his helmet from the officer he handed it to earlier. "I shall return."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

It had been a little over an hour since Tavington had left, and Juliana knew it wouldn't be much longer before the baby arrived. The pains were closer than ever, now.

_He's going to miss it_, Juliana thought. _He's going to miss it._

"Alright, Juliana," Dr. Ross began, "it's time to push again. You must push as hard as you possibly can, Juliana. You must."

Juliana nodded. "I understand."

"Push with the next pain," Ross instructed.

Juliana nodded. The next pain was quick in coming, and her body tensed in response. Ross ordered her to push, and she did, eyes closed, teeth bared. She didn't notice the minor commotion occurring outside the bedroom door. Tavington barged into the room.

Ross looked from his work to the open door. "Colonel – perhaps you should wait outside?"

Tavington glared at Ross on his way to Juliana's bed. He couldn't care less about traditions or the proper etiquette for a man in his situation.

"Juliana," he said, kneeling beside the bed. He picked up her hand.

"Did you find the people you were searching for?" Juliana managed, though she was visibly winded.

"Don't worry about any of that right now," Tavington said. "Are you well? How do you feel?"

"I'm fine, Will." Juliana looked over at Dr. Ross. "Aren't I, Doctor?"

"Everything is moving along nicely. You're right where you're supposed to be. It won't be much longer," Ross told Juliana. "Rest now; you have to be ready when the next pain comes along."

Juliana let her head drop to the pillow beneath it, and Ross put another damp towel on her forehead. Juliana closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

"You're just in time, Colonel," Ross told Tavington. He looked down at Juliana again in time to see her tense again in pain. "It's time to push again, Juliana. You must push hard, as hard as you can. Now, Juliana!"

And she did. She bore down and pushed for all she was worth. Tavington watched the whole scene in silent fascination. Never in all his years had he witnessed anything like this before.

Juliana knew it was all over when she heard a baby's wail.

"It's a boy," Ross cheerily reported. Juliana and Tavington looked at each other, smiling. They'd already discussed names and figured themselves to be prepared for whatever might come their way.

"Daniel," Juliana said, naming her son.

Ross handed Daniel to his assistant. When he turned back to Juliana, his brows furrowed as he was greeted with the unexpected.

Tavington didn't like the look at all. "What is it?"

"Something isn't right," Ross said.

"What do you mean?" Tavington asked. His anger began to flare. "I thought you said you'd done this before?"

"I have," Ross insisted. "But this isn't normal."

"What is it?" Juliana asked, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Juliana, push," Ross ordered abruptly.

"But – "

"Just do it!"

Juliana obliged, though she was confused by the order and didn't expect anything to happen. But something was happening. "It feels like there's another baby," she said, pushing.

"There is," Ross said.

"What?" Tavington and Juliana asked in unison.

"Keep pushing," Ross instructed.

It didn't take as long to deliver the second baby, and it came with less difficulty. In a matter of minutes, there was a second wail from a second baby.

"It's a girl!" Ross exclaimed.

Juliana and Tavington looked at each other, each trying to come to terms with the situation. They already had a name in mind for the girl; they hadn't thought they would have to use it after Daniel's arrival. Having twins hadn't even been a prospect.

"Helena," Juliana said, as the girl was handed to the attendant and cleaned. A few moments later, Ross and the attendant returned to the bed.

"Daniel," Ross said, presenting the boy to Juliana. He turned to Tavington. "And Helena." The attendant handed the girl to Tavington, who looked like he wanted to sprint from the room.

"I've never held one before," Tavington croaked as the girl was pushed into his arms.

"Put your arm under her head like this," Ross's assistant instructed.

Still unsure of himself, Tavington cradled the baby in the crook of his arm. "Like this?" he asked.

"You gonna have to get a better grip on her, Colonel, or she's gonna slip right through your fingers," Ross's attendant gently chided. "Go on – you ain't gonna hurt her." Tavington gently tightened his grip on the child. The young slave smiled and nodded in approval. "There you go. Oh, she likes you, Colonel."

Tavington couldn't help but smile as he looked down at his daughter. He looked down into her eyes and recognized them as his own. He didn't know exactly what this meant for him or Juliana, but he knew that things would be different for them from this point on. Things would be very different.

_A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit off at all. That's what happens when you fall out of practice, lol._


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"I told you to hold your fire!" Tavington scolded his officer.

"Sorry, Colonel," the officer said. "I thought he had a firearm. It looked like a pistol."

"A pistol? He's a boy. His 'pistol' was made of wood; it's nothing more than a child's toy." Tavington flashed a look of fury at the trigger-happy officer.

"You never know with these Colonials, sir," the officer said. "They teach the young ones to shoot and aim just as well as an adult. I'm sorry, Colonel."

Getting his hands on that list of Martin's men had been an incredible stroke of luck for Tavington, but he didn't feel so lucky now. His unit had made it to seven homes on the Santee, so far, but had made only minimal progress in the way of information on the rebels. It was all a tragedy, really, Tavington thought. And it was all because these silly people felt the need to protect those traitorous fools.

From his mount, Tavington peered down at the lifeless little boy. The boy couldn't have been any older than 5 or 6. Tavington wasn't fighting this war to kill children. Tavington looked at the woman being held at gunpoint by two soldiers. She was undoubtedly the boy's mother. She had the same red hair and was frantic at the sight of the dead boy.

"We know your husband is part of the South Carolina militia," Tavington told her. "What happened to your son is regrettable, but if you tell us what we need to know, you will be saved from suffering his fate. Tell me – where are your husband and the rest of his rebel friends hiding?"

The woman's face was slick with fresh tears. She shook her head. "I don't know, sir. He didn't tell me anything."

"Have it your way," Tavington said, as he pulled out his revolver. He pointed it at the woman and pulled the trigger. The shot tore into her chest and she fell limp in the hands of the two soldiers. They dropped her on the ground beside her son.

xxx

A week later, Tavington sat atop his horse, watching flames engulf the church a few yards in front of him. How had it all escalated to this awful point? Inside that church was Pembroke's entire population – men, women … and children.

Had it really been absolutely necessary? No, Tavington answered himself. He knew that he probably could have burned the town and the message to the people would have been as loud and as clear. But this move he had taken, burning the church, would certainly drive that message all the way home. Traitors deserved what came to them. Those who helped traitors were just as guilty as the traitors themselves. And Tavington would remain relentless in his pursuit of Benjamin Martin.

Captain Wilkins, looking particularly ill, rode up beside Tavington on his horse. He had dutifully carried out the order to burn the church.

"The honor is found in the end, not the means," Tavington told Wilkins. He said it to convince himself more than to convince Wilkins. "This will be forgotten." Tavington knew this was a lie. How could he forget those screams? Some of those screams belonged to children, babies even. If the roles were reversed, and Colonials were burning a church full of Loyalists, it could easily be his own children inside.

Tavington banished the thoughts from his mind and mentally blocked out the screams of those dying inside the church. He had to keep in sight what – _who_ – he was doing this for. If Tavington got Martin, he would get Ohio. Once he got Ohio, everything would fall into place. Everything he had gone through and put up with would have been worth it.

/\/\/

"Juliana, I just heard some news about Colonel Tavington just now on the square," Jenny said as she rushed into the bedroom. Juliana, having just put the children down for a nap, turned to Jenny. "They say he killed some slaves at a plantation on the Santee," Jenny continued.

Juliana led Jenny from the bedroom, closing the door behind them. "Who?" Juliana asked the girl.

"John Moore," Jenny said.

A surprised breath escaped Juliana's lips. She knew John. She used to see him all the time in town.

"And there's more," Jenny said. "I heard some people say that Colonel Tavington locked all the Pembroke people in the town church and set it on fire. Wasn't a person left. Ain't that somethin'? A whole town gone up in smoke, just like that."

"It can't be, Jenny," Juliana said. She shook her head. "There must be some kind of mistake. Maybe they were talking about a different colonel or somethin'. They couldn't have been talkin' about our Colonel Tavington."

"I don't know. It sure did sound like they was talkin' about him."

xxx

Juliana couldn't believe what Jenny had said about Tavington the day before. She just couldn't accept it, not without any proof. She knew that Tavington could be a hard man, but could he really murder a whole town? _A whole town?_ It wasn't possible, it couldn't be.

She walked into the general store. She hadn't taken more than three steps inside when she heard two people by the counter talking about something that instantly garnered her attention.

"Have you heard about what happened at Pembroke?" one man asked. Juliana stopped and listened. Her back was to the man who'd spoken.

"I have, indeed," a second man answered. "It's terrible, just terrible."

The first man shook his head. "That Tavington was in command. How anyone could be so heartless, I don't know. I had a cousin in Pembroke … they couldn't find any bodies at all."

"I tell you what - I feel sorry for Tavington. He's got to live with this for the rest of his life, and he's going to have to answer for it on Judgment Day."

"You do have a point, although I hear that the colonel may be answering for it while he's still alive."

"The battle at Cowpens. Yes, I've heard. It was a very bad loss for the British. What makes it so bad is that it shouldn't have been a loss at all." He sighed. "Either way, I hear that Tavington is very bad off, close to death they say."

Juliana ran outside the store. She didn't need to hear anymore. She couldn't see past the tears in her eyes, and she leaned against a lamppost outside. She wanted to die. She wanted to die because so many had already died at Tavington's hands, including a whole town. And she wanted to die because Tavington was dying, and there was anything in the world she could do to save him. Unless …

Someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Juliana turned around. She recognized the man but not fully. She'd seen him before, but she couldn't remember where. He seemed to know exactly who she was, though, when he finally saw her face.

"Hey," he said, "It's you, from General Cornwallis's party."

Juliana focused on the man's features as he spoke again. "It's me – Sam Parker. You met me at one of the General's place last year."

Juliana breathed a sigh of relief because she finally recognized the man standing in front of her. "Oh – yes. That was at my first one."

"That's right." He frowned at her tear-streaked face. "What's the matter?"

"I need to get to Cowpens," she said.

"What you wanna go up there for?"

"It's Colonel Tavington," she said. "I think he's been hurt, and I think it's serious. Do you know of anyone who can take me or who can at least tell me the way?"

Sam nodded slowly. "I can."

xxx

Juliana rushed into the house. There were a million things to do before she could leave with Sam the following morning.

"Is it often that you run off and leave those babies with strangers?"

Juliana stopped cold at the entrance of the parlor. Someone she hadn't seen for a decade stood in the center of the room with her hands on her hips and a familiar smirk on her face.

"Lydia," Juliana said. She briskly walked over to her older sister and wrapped her arms around her. "What are you doin' here? What about Mr. Melvin?"

"Mr. Melvin passed on," Lydia said, referring to her former master. "His son took up arms for the patriot cause and freed all his daddy's slaves 'cause he said it didn't seem right to be fightin' for freedom and to be ownin' other people at the same time. So, he let us go."

"That's wonderful," Juliana said, her face beaming at the sight of her sister. "How did you know to find me here?"

"Girl, you know it don't take hardly take no time for somethin' to make its way around that small town where I was livin', especially if it has to do with Colonel Tavington. I would've come sooner, but I had some business to take care of." Sadness momentarily flashed in her dark eyes, but it quickly disappeared as her thoughts turned to a happier subject. "Now – let me see these children."

Juliana led Lydia up the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Tavington. Juliana placed her hand on the doorknob, but Lydia stopped her from opening the door.

"I had a little one of my own," Lydia said.

Juliana smiled, ready to congratulate her sister, but she was caught up on the word 'had', and her eager smile faded.

"She died after she was born," Lydia said.

"When?" Juliana asked.

"I had her a month ago. She died two weeks later."

"Lydia – I'm so sorry. If seein' mine is going to be too much – "

"It's okay," Lydia said. "It's still a difficult thing to deal with, for sure, but I'm yours are gonna help me."

Juliana's smile returned, and she pushed the door open. Lydia stepped inside and went straight to the crib on the far side of the room.

"There they are, the little precious angels," Lydia gushed.

Juliana stepped beside her at the crib. "This is Helena and Daniel," she said.

"A boy and a girl," Lydia said, a proud grin on her face. "Well, ain't that somethin'?"

The two children were asleep, unable to greet their aunt. Lydia looked from the crib to Juliana. "They are absolutely beautiful, Juliana," she said.

"Thank you," Juliana said.

Lydia took a step back from the crib and looked around at the room. "If this is your room, I can only imagine what the colonel's room is like," she said, casually pacing.

"This is the colonel's room," Juliana said quietly.

Lydia's smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of disappointment as she looked at Juliana. "Juliana – no."

Juliana led Lydia from the room, so as not to wake the children. She closed the door behind them. "It isn't what you think it is, Lydia," she said once they were out in the hall.

"No? How is it not? You share his room, his bed. And I'm assumin' those are _his_ children in there." She watched Juliana, waiting for an answer. "Oh, dear Lord – he didn't force himself on you, did he?"

"No, never," Juliana said. "It isn't like that." She paused and sighed. "How could I ever explain it to you?"

"Try," Lydia said.

xxx

Juliana sat across from Lydia in the kitchen. A cup of tea was on the table in front of Lydia.

Lydia looked down at the brown liquid with obvious disdain. "Tea," she said. "My, aren't we civilized, now?"

Juliana ignored the comment. "It didn't start out like this," she began.

"It never does, does it?" Lydia sipped from her mug. "When? How?"

"Well, you know that he got me when he raided Mr. Harris's place," Juliana said.

"Yes, I heard," Lydia said. She pushed the half-empty mug away from her. "I also heard about him dressin' you up and cartin' you around to all those bigwig parties. Is that how it started?"

Juliana shook her head. "No. It started with dinner."

"Dinner?"

"One of the slaves who was already here when I got here, she decided to … " Juliana lowered her voice and continued. " … poison the Colonel."

"_What_?"

"She told me about it before she did it. It almost worked."

"What happened? To the slave, I mean." Tavington was still alive, so obviously, the slave's attempt at murder had failed.

Juliana shook her head. "I couldn't let her do it. I just couldn't. I warned Colonel Tavington before he had a chance to eat. I don't know why. It was my chance to get away, to be free, and I let it slip right through my fingers. After that, that's when he changed. See, before, I was just a souvenir, a reminder of his military prowess and success. But after I … saved him, it changed. Not all at once, but gradually … "

"Why, Juliana? Why not just let her go through with it? It wasn't your plan."

"Because I couldn't be like him. He does things only for himself. If the roles had been reversed, he would have let me eat my meal and probably wouldn't have thought twice about it. He doesn't care about anyone else. That's how it used to be, anyway. Me, on the other hand, I couldn't let someone die like that, with no warnin' or anything. It's like shootin' someone in the back. So, I told. The slave who came up with the plot and another who helped her were both arrested and killed."

"They would be alive now if you hadn't said anything."

"Maybe. But Will would certainly not be, and neither would Helena and Daniel. And no matter what you say or what you think of Will, those children are a blessin'."

"_Will_?"

"What is it you want to say to me, Lydia?" Juliana's frustration with her sister's attitude became more prominent.

Lydia stood, as equally frustrated with Juliana as Juliana was with her. "I shouldn't have to say it, it should be obvious. I can't believe you would willingly go to bed with this 'Colonel Will' and breed more slaves for him."

"What are you talkin' about?" Juliana asked, peering up at her sister's imposing figure.

"What do you think you and those children are to him? You ain't nothin' but slaves, and don't you dare fool yourself into thinkin' you're anything else,you here?"

"You don't understand," Juliana insisted.

"No, _you_ don't." Lydia walked around the table to Juliana. "You're his slave, Juliana, not his wife. You belong to him just like this chair or this table or this tea. And he will use you up and toss you out when you aren't valuable to him anymore."

"It isn't like that, Lydia. You don't know all that we've been through. If you did, you wouldn't be sayin' these things."

Lydia kneeled beside Juliana. "Juliana, I don't understand what's wrong with you. Do you want those children to grow up like you did? Worse yet, what if he decides he wants to sell them off later on down the road? Or you? What you gonna do then?"

Juliana shot to her feet, nearly knocking Lydia to her backside in the process. "Enough! Enough. He wouldn't do that." This whole conversation reminded her of a conversation she'd had with Tavington about her grandfather, only then, she'd been defending her grandfather to Tavington. Now she was defending Tavington. It was the same conversation; the only difference was that the roles had changed.

"Don't you see what's happenin' here, girl?" Lydia asked as she stood. "Open your eyes. Tavington's gonna do the same thing, gonna treat you the same way that Mr. Harris did. He's probably already doin' it."

"He is not."

"Really? How does he act when he's in public with you? Does he walk arm-in-arm with you? Or do you walk behind him? Does he ever tell you how much he loves you?"

"It isn't that easy, Lydia. He has an image to keep up, orders to follow. After the war, it will be different." Juliana realized that she was repeating what had become Tavington's customary excuse for his actions. She hadn't believed it at first, but she heard it so much now, it was difficult not to.

"After the war, you will still be working as a slave in his house."

"No. It isn't going to be like that because it isn't like that now. I don't work around here. I've barely lifted a finger since the day I arrived. My way of life here has been better than how most white folks live. And … I love him. You can't help who you fall in love with."

"Don't be such a silly little thing. You really think he loves you?"

"I _know_ he does." Lydia was understandably skeptical, but Juliana continued. "He loves me, Lydia. I know it. That's why I'm leavin' for Cowpens in the mornin'."

"What's in Cowpens?"

"Will. I think he's hurt. I've got to go see about him."

"So, you're tellin' me that you're gonna leave your children to go see about this white man who probably wouldn't think twice about leavin' you to rot?"

"He wouldn't leave me," Juliana answered softly.

"How do you know he wouldn't?"

"Some rebel militia took me a while ago, carried me off to their camp. I was there for a whole month. I thought I would be there forever. Then one night, I was servin' the men there, and I looked up from my pail, and he was standin' right there in front of me. He took me away from that camp and those vile men. He rescued me, even though he was under orders not to. He came after me, Lydia. He risked his career. He risked his _life_. So, you tell me – am I just supposed to leave him there, now? How can I? How can I do that to him?"

Lydia was silent. Juliana had just given her a new perspective on the situation. She hadn't known about that little episode. Apparently, not everything made it's way through the grapevine. It still didn't mean that Tavington was completely trustworthy, but it did say something about the man's priorities.

"I still think you should take advantage and run away with your children while you can," Lydia said. "But I can't stop you from goin' to the Colonel. Knowin' what I know now, I'm not sure I can blame you all that much anymore. I'm your sister, and you know I'll do what I can to help you. I'll stay and take care of things here while you're gone."

"Lydia? Do you mean it?"

"You should go ahead and pack," was Lydia's reply. "I reckon y'all are gonna be leavin' mighty early tomorrow mornin'."


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Hey everyone! I know it's been forever since my last chapter, and I hope some of you out there are still keeping up with this. I know this one's short, but it gets me where I need to go, as far as the story goes. This is most likely the next to the last chapter, so stay tuned!_

Chapter 24

One week passed. Then two. Soon, it was three weeks before Lydia learned anything of her sister since the latter had left on her mission to find the wounded Tavington. Sam Parker, Juliana's guide for her trek, returned.

When he appeared at the door, Lydia peered past him, expecting to see Juliana, making her way to the house behind him. But no one stood behind Sam. He was all alone.

"Where is she?" Lydia asked him.

xxx

Sam and William sat at the kitchen table, while Lydia moved away from the hearth with a steaming mug of cider. She walked over to the table and placed mug in front of Sam.

"Where's my sister?" Lydia asked, taking a seat directly across from Sam. "Why did you leave her behind?"

"I didn't exactly leave her behind, ma'am," Sam began. "At least not in the way, I suspect, you believe."

"Then, what happened," Lydia pressed. "Why isn't she with you?"

Sam brought the mug to his lips and slowly tested the hot liquid. He set it back down on the table before speaking again. "Your sister wanted to stay," Sam said.

The news frustrated and angered Lydia, but it didn't exactly surprise her. She knew how devoted Juliana was to Tavington. She'd heard it from her sister's own mouth as well as from William and Jenny. While Lydia understood and respected how her sister felt, she still didn't agree with it. A woman's children were supposed to be her top priority. She wasn't supposed to go chasing some man around the colony.

"She's still at Cowpens?" Lydia asked.

"No. She's at Fort Carolina," Sam said. "We went to Cowpens first. But then, we found out that Colonel Tavington had been moved to Fort Carolina. So, we kept ridin', and we reached the fort the next day."

"Did she get to see the colonel?" William asked.

"She sure did," Sam replied. "I was right there with her when she walked into his room. Oh, he was a sorry sight, indeed."

"Is he gonna die?" William asked.

Sam shook his head. "I can't say for sure. To tell the truth, he didn't look all that much alive when I was there. But Juliana must have seen something that I didn't, 'cause as soon as she saw him laid up on that bed, she went right to him. She said she wasn't leavin' his side until he was better."

"She's just gonna stay there and wait?" Lydia asked. "What about her children?" She watched Sam expectedly, waiting for an answer. None came.

xxx

Lydia placed Daniel in the crib beside Helena. It had taken her forever, it seemed, to get the little boy to close his eyes and go to sleep. But Lydia was certainly used to it by now. After two months of caring for both him and his sister, she had grown accustomed to many things that she never thought she'd have the opportunity to experience so soon after losing her own child.

"The Lord is truly mysterious," Lydia said to herself. "Yes, indeed."

William met Lydia as she was leaving the bedroom. "The post is here," he said.

This wasn't extraordinary news, so Lydia wondered why William was telling her this. It didn't usually require an announcement. He usually left the day's correspondence in the colonel's study. Her eyes fell to the letter in William's hands. He offered it to her, and she accepted, turning it over in her hands so that she could read the front of the envelope.

"It was brought by a military rider," William said.

Lydia hurriedly broke the seal and pulled out the letter. _This _has_ to be from her_, she thought, diving into the contents of the letter. She walked over and sat down in the nearest chair as she began to read.

"_My Dear Lydia, I apologize for not sending word as to my whereabouts sooner than this. I realize that I have been away for quite some time now, and I'm more than aware of the great burden I suddenly left you with in asking you to take care of Daniel and Lena. I thank you for your support and devotion, Dear Sister. You'll never know how much it means to me. For the moment, I remain at Fort Carolina, with Will. He's doing quite well, actually. I realize this might not be such good news to you as it is to me, but I'll give you an update anyway. He's walking, but his strength is still very limited. Let me get to the issue that I know you're most eager to have addressed: we'll be coming home to Charlestown soon, though I can't tell you an exact date. We're waiting until the doctor says Will is strong enough to travel without risk of rendering damage to his already weakened constitution. Now that the weather is turning warmer, I suspect that it won't be much longer, now. My hope is to be there in Charlestown by this time next month and to be speaking with you in person. But until then … please give Lena and Daniel kisses and hugs for me. I miss them so, terribly so; but their father needs me now. Your sister, Juliana."_

Lydia folded the letter and gazed out the window at the late afternoon sky. She worried that she was going to be receiving more letters like this from Juliana in the future. If that were to be the case, who knew how long it would be before her sister returned?

Lydia sighed heavily. Little Lena and Daniel could be headed for a childhood without their mother.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Well, guys, this is it. This is the final chapter, FINALLY. Thanks for sticking with the story and keeping up, especially through the long breaks between chapters.

_For Big Mama: Mary Lee Holmes Perry_

_1930 - 2007_

/\/\/\

Chapter 25

The battle at Cowpens had signaled a change for the worst for the British, as the Colonials gained confidence and began to come into their own on the military front. Finally, in October of 1781, the world turned upside down, it seemed, as Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown. The war wasn't officially over, but for all intents and purposes, it was a done deal, a deal that did not fall in Britain's favor.

Loyalists were, thus, placed in a sticky situation. They had stood against their neighbors who'd fought for independence; but when the smoke had cleared and the dust had settled, they realized that those neighbors were no longer neighbors but foreigners, citizens of another country. Some Loyalists stayed put in the newly minted America, but many packed up and left, rather than pledge allegiance to a foreign,(and in their eyes, illegitimate) government. Many of them went north, to Canada …

/\/\/

Two lively, raven-haired 11-year-olds, a girl and a boy, ran into the sitting room where their mother sat sewing.

"Mother, we've finished our lessons," the boy said. "May we go practice now?"

"Did you finish _all_ of your lessons?" the mother questioned. "Thoroughly? You didn't rush through carelessly?"

"No, Mother. We did everything correctly and got all the answers right," the girl assured.

The mother looked over the children's heads at their tutor, who was just now walking through the door. "What about it, Mr. Donald?" she asked. "Is their work today satisfactory?"

"It's beyond satisfactory," Donald said. "It's exemplary. As usual. In my humble opinion, they deserve a break."

The mother smiled at her children. "Well, in that case … go and see if your father is ready to go outside. He's in his study."

The children looked at each other and grinned widely. They sprinted from the room. The mother placed her sewing aside and stood. "Thank you, Mr. Donald," she said. "You always work such wonders with them."

"They work wonders by themselves," Donald complimented. "They're very bright children."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Donald. I'll be sure to convey your kind praises to my husband."

xxx

Daniel and Helena Tavington stopped at the doorway of their father's study. His back was to them, so Daniel knocked. "Father?" he tested.

"Yes?"

"Father, we want to practice," Helena said.

"Have you finished your school studies for the day?" the father asked, his head still bowed to his desk.

The children nodded fervently, their dark curls shifting with the movement of their heads. "Yes, sir," they said in unison.

William Tavington finally turned to his children. "Well, then – I'd say it's time to practice."

xxx

The Tavingtons lived on a large swath of land off the southern coast of Nova Scotia, Canada, about a day's journey from Halifax. Their property stretched over a 1,000-acre plot, with the Atlantic Ocean beyond in the visible distance.

Juliana and Tavington had been part of the mass of loyal British subjects and military who'd evacuated Charlestown and the rest of the colonies shortly after Cornwallis's surrender at Yorktown. They acquired their property by chance after coming into contact with a Frenchman who was eager to sell the house and the land on which it was located. The price was far too good to pass up. Before they were even settled in, Tavington and Juliana were married in a private ceremony at their new home. It was a small affair, William and Linda being the only witnesses.

Juliana had been residents of Nova Scotia for nearly ten years now. The small province had turned out to be a good fit for them. They were close to a sizable city, but they were far enough away to enjoy the benefits of relative isolation. Gone were the days of extravagant parties and endless social seasons. Tavington had built a sizable business as a tobacco and tea merchant, conducting his business affairs out of Halifax, and was also a devoted family man. He loved his children and his wife more than he'd ever previously thought he would be able to love anyone. It was with this immense amount of feeling that he watched Daniel and Helena as they went at each other with large sticks, sparring in a simulated swordfight on the back lawn. Tavington watched from a short distance, overseeing their progress.

"That's right," he said. "Keep your swords up – don't let them drop." Daniel relentlessly went after his sister, attacking from a multitude of angles, backing Helena up further and further. "Be aggressive, Lena; don't let him bully you." Upon hearing her father's words, the girl redoubled her efforts and quickly became the aggressor in the match. "That's it," Tavington encouraged. Helena went after her brother and struck his 'sword', sending it flying from his hands.

Tavington smiled proudly. "Very good, Lena. Very good, indeed."

xxx

Juliana fidgeted with the book in her hands as she watched the scene from the sitting room window. She'd intended to finish reading the novel today, but couldn't keep her eyes away from the window long enough to finish a paragraph.

Tavington soon entered the house and walked into the room. He stood behind Juliana, and they both watched their children through the glass.

"They're only sticks," Tavington reassured her.

"I know, but one day, I'm sure you're going to want to replace those sticks with the real thing," Juliana said. "And then I'm sure it'll be muskets and pistols and all sorts of lovely toys."

"Well, my dear, that _is_ the point of having them practice. You can't very well expect them to defend themselves with sticks. There's little need for worry, though. I won't be handing over the swords tomorrow." He kissed her cheek. "Things might not have turned out exactly as I'd originally planned, but moving to Nova Scotia and settling down here wasn't such a bad idea, was it now?"

"I think it's one of the best things that ever happened to us," Juliana said. "Where in the states would we have ever been able to marry?" She placed the book aside on a table, resolving to finish it tomorrow.

Tavington sighed. "Still, it would have been nice to have been governor of my own colony, to make the rules for once instead of bowing down to them."

Juliana turned to him. "Well, it isn't all over and done with, yet. You may still get your opportunity."

Tavington laughed. "In my dreams, maybe." He'd thrown that whole bag to the wind when he disobeyed Cornwallis at Cowpens and charged early. That single blunder had cost Britain the battle and probably had a great deal to do with the ultimate outcome of the war. It had nearly cost him his life. That wasn't the kind of occurrence that led to a reward like absolute control of a colony. Tavington resisted the urge to touch the large scar on his throat beneath his collar.

He didn't say anything more. He gazed out the window, past his children, at something unseen. Juliana laid a gentle hand on his arm before moving away from him. He was like that sometimes, silent and reflective. When he was, Juliana usually recognized the mood and left him alone.

xxx

Breaking glass shattered all their dreams. Juliana woke at the sound and sat up in the bed. Tavington sat on the side of the bed, listening for any indicators as to what had caused the jarring noise. The first crash had woken him out of his sleep, and he wasn't even sure if what he'd initially heard had been real or part of a dream. When he heard a second crash, he knew.

"Someone's in the house," he determined, quickly rising from the bed and pulling on the nearest pair of pants. He reached for the loaded pistol he always kept at his bedside and walked over to one of the bedroom's windows. He peeked through the curtains, parting them slightly with the barrel of his gun and keeping his face clear of the opening. Three mounted men waited below on the front lawn. One of them carried a lit torch, but the other two appeared to be armed.

Tavington continued to observe the mounted men through the window. "Get the children," he instructed Juliana, who was now standing. "Lock yourselves in one of the rooms up here, and don't come out until I come back for you. Take the rifle."

Juliana walked around to the other side of the bed and retrieved the rifle stowed away behind the head of the bed. On her way to the bedroom door, she stopped next to Tavington, intending to needlessly remind him to be careful.

Before Juliana could speak, the bedroom door opened, and Helena rushed in, her blue eyes wide with fear. "What's going on?" she asked. The fact that each of her parents was armed didn't do much to calm her.

"Lena, where's Daniel?" Juliana asked.

"He said he was going to fight off the intruders," Helena replied.

Tavington's head snapped from the window to the girl. "He _what_?" He didn't wait for her to respond again. He tore out of the room and down the hall. He flew down the staircase, fighting the urge to attempt to clear the entire flight in a single leap. He reached the bottom in time to see Daniel fling the front door open and rush outside, sword in hand.

"Daniel!" Tavington called desperately. But as the sound of his son's name left his lips, a shot rang out, and the boy fell to the ground.

Tavington froze in the doorway, unconcerned that he was completely exposed to the villains. He stared at the motionless form of his only son on the ground a mere few feet away from him. Then, he lifted his eyes away from Daniel and locked eyes with the only mounted man who carried a pistol. The man's eyes carried a look of satisfaction, like he'd finally accomplished a mission he'd begun long ago. No words passed between them. The man and his two accomplices spurred their horses and stalked off into the darkness.

Tavington looked at Daniel, laying prone on the ground, and ran over to him.

Juliana and Helena appeared in the doorway.

When Juliana saw Daniel, she knew that he couldn't be alive. She couldn't move. Her feet felt glued to the ground, her hands firmly fixed to the door frame around her. She remained on the porch and waited and watched while Tavington kneeled beside Daniel.

The boy was still breathing, but barely. The single shot had pierced his chest, and blood poured freely from the wound. All the color had faded from his face. But he was alive.

"Daniel? Daniel, can you hear me? Can you see me?" Tavington stroked the boy's curly dark locks to make him aware of his presence.

"Father? Father?"

"I'm right here, son." He looked over and realized that Daniel had never let go of the sword he'd come charging out of the house with and still gripped it tightly in his right hand. Tavington pried it from Daniel's hand and cast it aside.

"I just – I just wanted to protect you and Mother and Lena, Father," Daniel said. "I wanted to be brave, like you."

"You were, son," Tavington said. "You did well. Very well."

Daniel smiled, and there was a moment when Tavington let himself believe that his son might pull through this. He might be okay.

And then he was gone.

Tavington, at a total loss for words, looked at Juliana. She finally left the porch and walked over to him. She dropped to her knees beside Daniel, and she completely lost it, turning on Tavington.

"This is your fault!" she said, striking him on the arm. "You and your _practice_." She hit him again. "You've killed our son!" She struck him again and again, and he took it, feeling that he fully deserved every blow. Finally, he stopped the assault by grabbing her wrists and then wrapping his arms around her, but he said nothing. Nothing he could say or do would fix this. Nothing.

/\/\/

Two weeks after Daniel's burial, an unexpected visitor appeared at the Tavingtons' door.

"Colonel Wilkins?" Juliana said upon answering the door. "It's been some time since we've last seen you, now hasn't it?" The last time Juliana and Tavington had seen him had been the end of the war. He'd remained with the British army and had been promoted after being assigned to Nova Scotia.

"Yes, ma'am," Wilkins said with a slight grin and a solemn nod. "Is Colonel Tavington in?"

"He's out back with Helena. Why don't you come in and wait while I get him for you?" Juliana stepped aside to let him enter.

"Thank you," Wilkins said, stepping into the house.

Juliana led him to the parlor. "It should only be a moment," she told him before leaving him alone.

xxx

At the rear of the house, Tavington watched from the terrace as Helena skillfully guided her horse around the lawn.

The door opened behind him. Juliana stepped out into the breeze.

"She looks like an angel out there," Tavington said. "Like her mother." He looked at Juliana.

"There's a visitor here to see you," Juliana said.

"Is that so? I wasn't expecting any visitors today."

"I think you'll be quite surprised to find out who it is." Tavington's eyes asked the question for him, and Juliana answered. "It's Wilkins."

"Wilkins? I haven't seen him in ages." He looked out at Helena again. Still a good distance away, she had dismounted and was leading her animal toward the house. "What does he want?"

"He didn't say. He just asked to see you. He's in the parlor."

Tavington left Juliana outside and went to the parlor, all the time trying to figure out the reason why Wilkins was standing in his parlor. When he appeared in the doorway, he found Wilkin's tall form studying the books that filled one of the shelves on the wall.

"Find anything that interests you?" Tavington asked him.

Wilkins turned to his former commander. "Colonel Tavington – it's a pleasure to see you again, sir."

Tavington entered the room. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Last night, our patrol unit picked up a rabble that was causing a disturbance at one of the pubs in Halifax. As you know, we've been actively investigating your case, so we questioned the men for the possibility that they may have been connected with the attack on your residence. Colonel Tavington, we believe we've caught one of the perpetrators and that he is likely the one who murdered your son."

Tavington blinked a few times. He found the nearest chair and lowered himself into it. He hadn't expected that anyone would be able to track down the animals responsible for what had happened to Daniel. He looked up at Wilkins, urging him to continue. "Who is it? Is it someone from the area? Anyone I might know?"

"It's a man by the name of Martin," Wilkins said.

"Martin?" Tavington repeated. For him, that name would always resonate. He would never forget his old nemesis from the war. Tavington remembered. He remembered all too well. The farm off the Santee. 'The Ghost'. The boy … But this wasn't the same man … was it? "Did you say 'Martin'?"

"Yes. Nathan Martin. He's from the States," Wilkins continued. "South Carolina, to be precise." Tavington looked at Wilkins, his former subordinate, with disbelief. "It's Benjamin Martin's son."

Tavington had taken two of Martin's sons from him during the war. Now a third was sitting in a Halifax jail cell, and Tavington's own son was dead. It had taken over a decade, but Tavington had finally gotten what was coming to him.

"The investigation is still ongoing," Wilkins said, "but I believe we'll have ample evidence for a murder conviction. But we need you to come in and identify him."

xxx

Two days later, Tavington stood at the entrance of the jail. He was still trying to decide whether he should enter and go through with this. He had ridden for a day and acquired a room in the city when he'd arrived the previous night. But he had to do this. For Helena and Juliana, who had remained at home. And for Daniel.

Wilkins was waiting for him when he walked in. "Colonel Tavington," he began, "I know you have better places to spend your time than in a jail, so let's get this over with, shall we?"

Tavington nodded. He followed Wilkins past the guards and into the cell area. The place was dark and damp and warm. The stone walls looked slick and the place reeked of filth. Had it been possible, Tavington would have preferred to have held his breath for the duration of his visit.

The pair came to a stop when they reached the cell at the end of the corridor. A man stood against one of the walls gazing up at the cell window just out of reach above his head. Tavington and Wilkins shared a glance.

Wilkins looked at the prisoner. "Martin – you have a visitor."

Nathan Martin turned around at the sound of Wilkins's voice. He looked to be in his early twenties. A shaggy mop of light brown hair covered his head and nearly spilled over into his gray eyes. There was an immediate change in the boy's demeanor when he saw Tavington standing on the other side of the bars with Wilkins. "I'm not interested in seeing any visitors," he said. He started to turn back to the window.

"You're not in any position to dictate what you will or will not do, Martin," Wilkins said. "If you refuse to comply of your own will, you will comply by force."

Nathan's gaze shifted from Wilkins to Tavington. He looked as if he wanted to resist, but he complied and walked over to the cell door. Tavington and Nathan remained locked in an unshakable stare-down. Tavington didn't remember many faces from that day at Martin's farm; but he did remember this face. He was definitely one of the men who'd terrorized his family and he was most definitely the one who had pulled the trigger. Tavington was more than ready to tell all this to Wilkins. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Had this happened ten years before, Tavington wouldn't have hesitated, but something was stopping him now.

"Has he confessed?" Tavington asked.

"No," Wilkins said. "He chooses to make things difficult for himself and for us."

Tavington's eyes never left Nathan. "It isn't him," he said.

Nathan and Wilkins, both confused, looked at each other.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Wilkins asked Tavington.

"You've got the wrong man," Tavington insisted. "This isn't the man who shot Daniel. He wasn't even there." He turned away from Nathan and began to walk away from him.

Wilkins stayed with him. "But sir –"

Tavington turned to Wilkins but continued to walk away from Nathan. "The real killer must have escaped. I do hope you find him, but I suspect he's long gone from here by now." He looked at Nathan once more, casting a curious glance to him. "You're holding an innocent young man here, Colonel Wilkins." Tavington looked at Wilkins one more time before he walked out of the jail without another word.

/\/\/

It was well after midnight when the front door opened and Tavington walked into the house after his long return trip from Halifax. He found Juliana awake, though, despite the late hour. He'd started up the stairs when he'd glanced out one of the back windows and saw her out on the terrace. He abandoned the stairs and walked out to where she was.

Juliana sat on one of the benches along the outside wall of the house. When the door opened, she stood, startled by the presence of someone else besides herself.

"Will?" she said. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect you to return for another day or two."

"It didn't take me long to finish up in Halifax," Tavington said. "So I decided to come back early." He embraced her and kissed her. "You're not disappointed, are you?" he asked in jest.

"A little," she replied, carrying the little joke through. She sat back down on the bench. Tavington sat beside her.

"What are you doing out here so late?" Tavington asked. "It's after midnight."

"No reason in particular," Juliana replied. "I like listening to the sound of the ocean. It helps me think."

"And what are you thinking about?"

Juliana shrugged. "You, mostly. I was wondering what you would find when you got to Halifax."

Tavington took her hand into his and looked into her eyes. "Juliana, I don't think they're ever going to punish the man who's responsible for Daniel's murder," Tavington said.

"But I thought you said they had someone in custody? You said they were sure it was him."

"I did say that, but it turns out that I didn't have my facts straight. That was my fault, though. The man they had wasn't responsible for what happened to Daniel." Nathan Martin may have pulled the trigger, but he wasn't responsible. Tavington was. He'd become responsible for it before Daniel had even been born, when Tavington had taken the lives of Martin's sons. Tavington had set the wheels of fate into motion.

One couldn't call what happened even, because it most definitely was not. Martin had lost two sons, Tavington only one. But one was more than enough. The price of war was far-reaching and long-lasting, as he'd finally learned. And it was a high price, indeed.


End file.
